02/12/16

The Saga of Ol’ Krueger

KruegDay1

Here he is right out of Animal Control on the way to his first vet visit – you can see his poor bones through his fur.

Krueger was a stray that I almost hit while driving to work one day. I called Animal Control to get him off the street safely, then got Savannah Sav-A-Life to sponsor me to get him out. He was about 3 years old but starved – weighed 45lbs and had a puppy collar tight on his throat at that weight. The logical assumption is that he’d had the collar as a puppy, then been chucked out into a back yard for the rest of his life. He had Stage 3 heartworms.

For a while, he went by the name Dog X. I’d just intended to rehab & foster him, since Eike was about 8 months old and whacko at the time. He went through confinement for heartworm treatment, getting weight on him, getting his poor muscles reconditioned, getting neutered (of course,) all that. And when he was healed up after a few months, it turned out that he was the perfect buddy for Eike: played with her enough to help her exercise, but was also really calm, which showed her that calm was an okay thing to be sometimes. 😊 So he got an official name, and stayed.

He is afraid of storms and lightning so cameras, which flash, usually make him flatten his ears. I snuck up on him in the sunshine once and got this great portrait though:

KruegerPortrait

He’s the sweetest marshmallow that ever was, but part of that sweetness is because I think the malnutrition & heartworms may have damaged his brain some. He’s never been interested in toys, treats, anything. Never chased a ball. Never wagged his tail. Never barked. He’s not shy or scared, just incredibly passive. Even wild animals don’t see him as any kind of threat: we’ve had rabbits and possums just mosey on by, up close!, like he wasn’t even there. (He didn’t notice them, either.)

It was okay that he didn’t learn things; he just copied Eike, and she was a Good Girl, so it worked out. He saw her go into her crate for dinner, so he went into his, etc. When he did things she disapproved of, like approaching the Christmas tree, she steered him away. It was pretty great.

We – with great affection – call him our throw rug.

The only thing that visibly perks him up is the opportunity to sleep on something new.

KruegCandlelight

DogCouch

He and Eike had their own couch. You can see why. No room for me!

 

Krueger’s now in the neighborhood of 16 years old. In the Spring/Summer of 2014 he developed Canine Cognitive Disorder/”doggie dementia,” which was terrible. It was like he had storm fear, but 24 hours a day. I was scared for him; not only was he suddenly incredibly destructive, flipping furniture over, etc, but he was so agitated that we couldn’t put calories into him as fast as his anxiety/activity was burning them.

We tried everything. We were about to put him on the last-ditch possibility, which is a human dementia medication – expensive and a pretty heavy pharmaceutical. Luckily a vitamin supplement (Cholodin) turned him around. His “brain pills” made him normal lazy Krueger again. I’m convinced it saved his life.

He’s very old and needs help getting around. He’s basically in hospice mode nowadays. But it looks pretty much the same as his “wild youth” – lots of sleeping on the couch, until it’s time for him to come into the bedroom at night and sleep on his bed there. (A habit we started when the dementia struck: he wouldn’t settle unless I was touching him. Slept for months with my arm hanging off the the bed, hand on his shoulder, until we found those vitamins.)

Now, with Bronte here, he sleeps on the couch with the coffee table moved up so she can’t jump all over him. He’d be fine with it, but no old man wants little’uns jumping on their heads or their bad hips. She occasionally checks in on him but is content to leave him be. He, having never cared about fun or toys or treats – hell, we don’t think he’s ever known his name – isn’t the least bit jealous of all of Bronte’s fun. Bronte doesn’t seem to be confused as to why there’s a whole ‘nother dog just sleeping all day, either. He gets treats anyway, and extra snuggles, because he deserves to be spoiled.

It may seem like it sometimes, but he’s not going to be here forever. In the mean time, he keeps the teapots safe.

KruegerTeapot

11/17/15

Building the Blue Alice: so much glue, masking tape, and swearing.

Last month, author and old friend Alex Bledsoe invited me to talk about Last Night at the Blue Alice on his blog. I thought that was as good a time as any to describe one of the weird things I chose to do along the way, which was build this dollhouse. You can read all about it here, and while you’re there, see what Alex has been up to. You should read his books, they’re wonderful.

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10/30/15

Some of the photos I kept on hand while writing the novella.: Ghosts of the Blue Alice

dead girls : FotoğraAlice in Wonderland,DoorUnstrungquietshroudlittlepennydreadful:Patience
.The Conjuring Top MCREEPY!WaitThe girl on the staiRiseCrackedWaves II by *SarachmGrounds For Concern
Fabio Interra Photogspectre - vintage spForgot somethingMournMawThe Reflecting PoolHenri Senders - Sundauthentic fauxhemian
10/7/15

Last Night at the Blue Alice: a new novella by Mehitobel Wilson: October 16 from Bedlam Press

The crumbling Blue Alice has been gathering ghosts for over a hundred years. Once a grand mansion, it was converted to a rooming house in the 1920s. Tenants throughout the century since have suffered violent poltergeist attacks by a vengeful spirit, complained of a spectral woman in black who looms and leers at their every move, reported hearing music when there should be none playing, and appealed to exorcists when tormented by a judgmental demon.

Mollie Chandler is on the verge of joining a shadowy Order whose magical operatives, the Glymjacks, manipulate events of the past. As the only candidate for the role of Psychopomp, she must pass one final test before the job is hers.

Mollie must use magic, ingenuity, and intuition to travel back in time to the source of each haunting, avert their circumstances, and change history.

If she succeeds, she will have to give up everything she’s ever known to become a Glymjack.

If she fails, Mollie will not survive – if she’s lucky. When it comes to time travel, the alternatives to death are far worse.

Mollie has but one night to change the histories of the dead and plot the course for her own future.

She is running out of time, and into the haunted heart of the Blue Alice.

October 2015, Bedlam Press: this novella is available from Bedlam Press in a signed, lettered hardcover edition and in a trade paperback edition, both with black & white interior art by Erik Wilson. Order yours here.

Also out October 16 as an e-dition, available from Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Itunes, and in many formats from Smashwords.

07/16/15

Changes and news a’coming

I’ve got a couple of big announcements to make, but I want to rearrange my website a touch before I make them. I don’t blog enough for this to be my landing page, despite my grand intentions.

As soon as I’ve done the adjustments, I’m sure I’ll start posting 5x a day, because I’m ornery like that.

In the mean time, woohoo, big news!

04/23/15

Today’s doings: Not Necessarily Concurrent

Now reading: The Doll Collection, edited by Ellen Datlow (T|B|F). You’re not surprised.

Now playing: The Wolf Among Us.

Now watching: Penny Dreadful, Vikings, Outlander, and pretending there’s more Justified to come.

Now writing: Last Night at the Blue Alice, coming 2015 from Bedlam.

Now drinking: Yorkshire Gold. I finally found some more – at the liquor store! There was loud batsrejoicing.

Now about to buy: The Tea Bats Lenormand Tarot by the Orange Moon Tea Society (T|B|F)

Now planning: Dollhouse construction and how to best close off any hideyholes that might look inviting to spiders. No building until I’m done with this manuscript, though.

Now absolutely flailing with anticipation for: the tv adaptation of Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell. I’m this close to preordering the blurays show-unseen.

Now listening to: Emily Wells, Anna Calvi, various others in playlists I’m planning to post on 8tracks as soon as I’m satisfied with them. I’ve only been working on them for a year. Yeah. I am slow and persnickety.

03/18/15

March attacks

I’m alive, but I am working hard to finish this novella and feel horribly guilty doing anything else, including blogging. Scrivener’s always right there reminding me not to play around on the internet. I want to talk about nine hundred different things, vaping and bourbon and blue boots and my elderdog and how we shoveled snow with a lawn chair, but it all has to wait. I’ve got some more killing to do first.