oceandoggy.com

I loved MR.GREENE. Loved his magnificent hugeness, loved his diesel, loved all his lights, loved his leather, loved him. In a, you know, manly way.

But I hated his cost.

The thing they don’t tell you when you fall in love with something the size of MR.GREENE. is just how much that love-largesse is gonna cost you and believe you me, it’s lots and lots- his oil changes were $125 and every 12 or 13 miles he’d guzzle another gallon of $4 diesel. Oh, and let’s don’t forget his truck payment and insurance.

I loved him but I needed to let him go.

I’d been looking for something a little less grandiose for the last several months whilst I reveled in HIS hugeness. I’d driven H2’s, H3’s, Jeeps, Nissan X-Terra’s and honestly? All were ho-hummers. It was like, hey, whatever, if it’s not my beloved MR.GREENE. why bother?

But then last week as I was leaving the hospital I saw a Cooper Mini in the doctor’s parking lot and went over and looked at it’s littleness. It was kinda cute in a teeny tiny way. I figured I could fit two of ’em in MR.GREENE.‘s truck bed.

Driving home that afternoon I remembered that there’s a Cooper dealership on the way and decided to stop and find out more about these silly little cars. I pulled into the lot, being careful not to roll over any of the Mini’s on display, and was met by one of the salesguys as I climbed down from MR.GREENE. We talked, he answered my questions about the cute little go-karts that BMW’s Cooper division call cars, and I decided to take one out for a test drive.

And I was flippen’ smitten.

I haven’t had that much fun driving in, like, forever. I got back to the dealership, tucked Little Miss Teeny Tiny up under my arm like a surfboard and ran inside.

I’ll take her, I said to the salesguy, holding Little Miss Teeny Tiny out in front of me so he’d know which one I wanted.

We worked out the boring trade-in and financial and insurance details and I took my new little girlfriend home. She’s tiny and teeny, but with her back seats folded down she’s big enough to carry my tools and the type of materials I need and I’ve ordered a roof rack for her. She’s the perfect little work vehicle at half the cost and three times the gas mileage. And she’s cute.

When Miss Carol got home and saw her, she sighed and said, just don’t let the dogs play with that in the house, ok?

Very funny.

A weird thing happened to me the other day.

I was working in this doctor’s office, a doctor’s office full of old people, when one of the exam room doors slid open and this old black guy came out into the narrow hand-hold railinged hallway followed by an even older black guy.

And instead of ignoring me and going about their business or their day, the first old black guy stopped and looked at me and said-

Whaddya call more than one mouse?

Mice, I said.

He seemed impressed.

Whaddya call more than one goose?

Geese, I said.

He beamed.

OK smart guy, whaddya call more than one moose?

Mooses, I said.

He laughed and said the strangest thing.

Enjoy your life, he boomed laughing, and escorted his father out into the reception area.

And I don’t know why, but I just loved that.

Enjoy your life.

Honestly.

Cutter will eat anything. He eats apples, carrots, grapes, pears, tomatoes, anything.

Tonight I was standing in the kitchen looking down at him and I had to laugh. We’d just finished dinner and Cutter had had carrots and dog biscuits and cucumber and he was still relentlessly wanting more.

You’re relentless, I said.

Don’t you ever get tired?, I asked, joking.

Dude, he said, sitting and settling. Tug circled and sat next to him- never a good sign.

Dude, he said again, admonishing me. Think about it. I have thumbless paws. I’m totally reliant on you and Miss Carol for everything in my life.

Yeah, Tug nodded.

Cutter looked at him for a second before continuing. So yeah, he said. I’m real excited when you bring out food. In fact it’s my only excitement, he said. Unless you’re gonna let me drive your truck, he said. 

Yeah, Tug said and licked himself.

Jesus, Cutter said staring at him.

Do I have to be a dog?, he said.

So- My littlest sister read the first chapter of my book.

She said- It left me going what the hell is going on?

She said- Where the hell r these crazy people?

She said- Send me more immediately!!!!

She said- It’s awesome!!!!!

I’d tried to remain cool and aloof and uncaring, but honestly? I’ve been fist pumping and high-fiving myself all day.

For the first time ever, someone besides me or Miss Carol is reading my book.

It’s weirdly unsettling.

I didn’t know this before I started, but writing anything, especially a book, is a deeply personal and private thing and having or watching or thinking about anyone else reading it is really skeeving me.

But I needed and wanted an opinion other than Miss Carol’s ’cause ya know she’s just a little biased, maybe?

So.

I sent the first chapter to my littlest sister on Tuesday.

My littlest sister is cooly abrasive and cleanly objective and I’m pretty sure she’ll tell me if it sucks so I’m pins and needling it ’til I hear whether she wants to read chapter 2.

My brother and his little cupcake called last night while Miss Carol and me were eating dinner.

They were super uber excited. 

We’ve hated where we live for a long time!, they said.

We’ve wanted to leave where we’re at and come down to the island and be with you guys!, they exclaimed.

Seriously they said, we’ve put our house on the market and the agent is going to have an open house in April and he thinks it’ll show well and sell quickly!

So we can move in with you! they yelled.

They whooped, hey!-we’re gonna pack up the first load tomorrow afternoon so we should at your place by midnight!

And don’t worry about a thing they squealed, we don’t need any help unpacking. We know you both have to work on Friday so we can handle it! You guys just go about your day!

And then my brother’s little cupcake chirped, but could ya maybe get us a coupla bottles of red wine?

And my brother said, and you know, some Bud Light? buddee?

This is gonna be soooooo much fuuuuuunnnn! they both shrieked- and then they hung up.

He’s your brother, Miss Carol said.

And I sat and tried to swallow whatever it was I’d been chewing on.

So just like that she’s off and running and rolling.

Four trips and 1374 miles and 213 gallons of diesel.

And according to Chris, she’s pulling loads like there’s nothin’ back there. Just cruisin’ and haulin’.

How much do I love you, Trixie?

You go girl.

Miss Carol hurried home, worked out and hurried out to play bunco tonight.

She says she’s just humoring some old lady she works with- that they need an alternate, a substitute, at the bunco table. 

But I don’t know. I’m not so sure.

For example, tonight, just like last time, some guy sporting mirrored aviator sunglasses pulled up in a yellow corvette and before I could go out and introduce myself Miss Carol had sprinted across the yard and leapt into the ‘vette and they’d roared away.

So I stood watching Miss Carol disappear marveling that the bunco players were being picked up in yellow corvettes. Bunco must be fun.

Maybe I should try it sometime.

But bunco must be a hard game too, ’cause last time when Miss Carol got home her skirt was on backwards and she’d lost her bra and her lipstick and hair were all messed up and smeared. 

And when I said, Miss Carol what happened!?

She’d smiled kinda blearily at me and said, Bunco, and then she’d gone upstairs to bed and she’d slept for a looooonnnnngggg time.

So I don’t know what’s gonna happen this time.