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They're Heeeeeeere

November 13, 2006

Lord, it has been...what? Two weeks? Three weeks? Something like that? It has definitely been something like that, and y'all, I wish I had spectacular trips and adventures to tell you about, and that on spectacular trips and adventures was where I've been all this time, but all I can say is, hi. Work is awesome! How are you?

So, I’m kind of far behind in my laundry. I am also kind of far behind in “calling people back,” “reading or responding to emails,” and “bringing the mail from the mailbox to the house.” It has been that kind of busy.

And, right slap dab in the middle of that kind of busy, the Gods of We Hate This House decided to strike again, and I have officially entered that point in Poltergeist where the little girl gets all sucked into the TV (only to be spit out 20 years later as the Ring girl? Hello, new theory!), because clearly, this house is not clean. It is not at rest. The house is haunted by the dead love of Shelley Long and Tom Hanks in the Money Pit, and I am kind of to the point of recognizing that, if it happened in that movie, we can be relatively certain it’s going to happen at my own address. The ghosts have been watching late nights on TBS, and they have been taking notes.

Who are these angry spirits who taunt me? Previous owners? Probably not, seeing as they are not dead, and now live in Birmingham.

Civil War spirits, which are supposed to be kicking it, dead-style, all over the ATL? Again, not likely, because the whole area was just farm land back then, and did not exactly see much action. (Mostly it saw cows.)

Which leads me to the conclusion that this has to be some kind of crazy Poltergeist thing, and I am actually buried on top of ten zillion bodies and Craig T. Nelson is grabbing my collar and screaming they only moved the headstones! They moved the headstones, but they left the bodies! WHY? WHYYYYY?

And maybe Craig T. Nelson is right. Because, please. How else do you explain the fact that now, in addition to doors falling off of their hinges, cabinets falling off of the walls, appliances catching rabies and going on minor killing sprees, AND a big fucking hole in the front yard, I now have, in the backyard:

(1) a mud pit, and
(2) no fence?

How do you explain that? Without resorting to poltergeists, I mean? Because I can’t do it. Sorry. There is otherworldly crap at hand. Please bring me Dr. Peter Venkman.

Here is short story. Short story is, know how I have been really busy lately? I have, and the busy-ness was not really assisted by the fact that my parents have also been out of town for the last two weeks, off visiting Ziz, and so I have also had eight dogs staying at my house. Stupidly, the dogs were allowed to bring their bladders along.

So, I got home one night and opened the back door to let the dogs out in the backyard, so that those bladders could be relieved. And it was dark outside, but still. When I had left that morning, I had been in the possession of a back yard, and a complete and total fence. I felt pretty confident in my belief that those things would still be there now, but as we all know, I am a fucking moron, because guess what I heard.

I heard: BARKBARKBARK, as all eight dogs apparently discovered something of which I was not aware.

And then I heard barkbarkbark as the sounds of eight dogs barking suddenly started to get…farther away. Hmm. Mysterious.

And then I heard: Bark? Which is the sound of Gimmme, all alone in the yard, wondering WHERE EVERYBODY GO?

Curious, I walked outside, and this is where I discovered that there was, in the middle of the backyard, an enormous green earth-moving machine. And I discovered also that the machine had been living up to its name, baby, because all of the earth in my backyard, which had previously contained things like flowers and grass, was fucking gone, replaced entirely by mud, leaves, and tire tracks, and that apparently, the earth mover got a liiiiiiiittle bit carried away, because guess what was also moved? The fence. The fucking fence. A good five feet of it was completely and totally gone.

So, this means seven (Gimmme ran in exactly the opposite direction, and missed his chance for freedom) dachshunds were now embarking on their own tiny, angry prison break up through the neighbors’ yard, exodus-ing all over the neighbor’s rhododendron, and having a very big time. I screamed bloody hell murder that DOGS FREE, and Dukay and I sprang into action by tearing through the mud, up the hill, and basically grabbing anything short, brown, and wiggly, by any short wiggly part we could get a hold of. Ultimately, we managed to gather all seven, while Gimmme continued to wander happily through the destruction of my back yard, all, “Ground is sticky today!” and utterly clueless about the entire rest of the world.

Upon tossing the seven dogs back into the kitchen, I again went outside in my (now-ruined) shoes in order to have a better look at the damage. I tried taking a picture, wondering if this was the sort of thing where I would have to file an insurance claim, and whether that claim would say, “Attack by rogue earth-moving equipment; casualties: yard/fence/sanity,” or whether I should just be honest and tell them that, “Hoodoo of house spreading and infecting nearby construction equipment; exorcism requested.”

Of course, because it was night, most of these pictures did not so much come out. But, I did get one, which sadly does not show the missing fence (it was off to the side), but I still think it is important for Science that I share this with you:

mud yard.JPG
Photographic Proof of Hoodoo Afoot

Let us take this to close-up:

gimmme mud.JPG
Gimmme also afoot, in mud. Gimmme is what we usually consider "not a flight risk," except then I end up booking it naked down the street, so maybe I am being a little cocky this picture-taking.

Okay, see that? That brown expanse right there? Used to be grass. Which Dukay had actually just mowed two days before, and so it was actually nice, well-trimmed grass. Oh, those were the good old days.

But, also, know what else you see? (Besides….Gimmme?) Ghost. You can see the shimmering spectre of some angry little spirit, taunting me evilly with the loss of my yard/fence/etc. I mean, it’s either a spectre or the neighbor’s light, but I know which side my money’s on, I will tell you THAT.


So, of course, there turns out to be a sort-of acceptable explanation for all this insanity, that being that the water pipe that allegedly busted in the front yard was just the beginning of the water problems plaguing the city at the moment, and it is therefore now necessary for them to dig up my backyard, as well, because there's probably a bust back there, too. Some Scooby-like sleuthing turned up a business card stuck on the front door (which we missed, because we did not come in the front door that evening) announcing that, "Fence will be back tomorrow." Like it just stepped out for a minute. Sick day for fence!

Shockingly, the fence did come back the next day, and the dogs were thrilled to be able to go outside again, and roll orgasmically in the mud that used to be my grass. Notice, however, that the note did not tell me when the grass will be back. It looks like the grass is taking extended personal leave. (Problems at home!) So, I guess things have sort of improved, if a yard full of mud can, in any way, be viewed as an improvement.

But, still, I know better. Because the next time we get rain, I know damn well those coffins are going to start popping up out of the ground all willy-nilly, and Bo is going to be sucked into the television set where he will bark towards the light, and heirlooms are going to start falling out of the ceiling, and Dukay is going to have to throw me into a closet with a dog leash tied around my waist and I am going to have to scream, "RUN FROM THE LIGHT, BO! STOP WHERE YOU ARE! DON'T EVEN LOOK AT IT!" and then I'll pop out of the fireplace cradling the dog, and we will be all covered in strawberry jam and looking ethereal, and also, dead.

So, obviously, we have a lot to look forward to over here! I'm psyched. And if shit doesn't stop happening to and around this damn house, then I'm moving into a Howard Johnson with Craig T. Nelson, where we will be safe and happy, and where the hoodoo will never hurt us, ever again.

At least, not until it's time for a sequel.

Y'all have a good week, and I'll be back later this week with the Gift Guide, and to tell y'all all my little, geeky news. So, stick around, and please don't go into the light.

And now Updated

...because holy shit, I can't believe I forgot to show you the Scariest Picture of All Halloween. Taken in my own house! Because we all know how I get around Halloween time. ("Crazy", is the answer I am going for here. I get "crazy," with the decorating and the festivity and the celebration of death and decay, which....hey there, healthy!)

So, I have Scary Pictures. But, see, we are having a disagreement about the scariest picture. We are a house divided. There are two choices, and y'all, what do you think? Is this the scariest picture of all Halloween, as it is a scary skeleton lit up by a strobe light in an upstairs window, and captured on film at exactly the right second by someone I seriously doubt was myself? I mean, eeeee, right?

fall and halloween 2006 225.jpg
Scary Picture Number One

OR, is THIS the scariest picture you've ever seen, captured definitely by me, at the end of a series of decisions to dress Bo in a sweater, no, in a fleece jacket, and then let's put a pumpkin hat on his head, no, that's just not right, no, DUDE, we HAVE to do it, and that is what led to this, o calm before the storm of teeth:

fall and halloween 2006 005.jpg
Scary Picture Number AHHHHHHHHHHHH!

And here we are, smack in our dilemma. Which is scarier to you? Looking at the skeleton, are you only vaguely scared, like you watched something on the Disney channel? But then, you looked at the Bo picture and became very scared, right, like, where you have-to-get-up-and-point-at-the-television-and-holler-at-people-scared, because I may have mentioned this before, but sometimes the GIRL comes OUT of the TV?

Now, is that how you felt? Because I am sure there is no middle ground here. Whatsoever.

(Incidentally, I would like to take this opportunity to point out that I am one to talk, because, new thing I just realized the other night: no matter how old I get, and no matter how many times I see it, the movie scene which scares me above all others -- and I have seen a lot of fucking scary movies, people, with blood and gore and beheadings and etc. -- the scariest scene of all time to me is still that scene from the fucking GOONIES, where Chunk goes into the freezer, and there's the dead body all leaning in the corner in the garbage bag, and everyone is just staring at it silently, and...HOLY MOTHER OF GOD. Honestly, it came on the other night, and I couldn't even watch it. I had to look away and squeal, because SCARY BODY IS ABOUT TO FALL ON CHUNK. Maybe someone tossed a glad-wrapped corpse on me when I was a kid, I don't fucking know, but, dude. That scene scares the everloving SHIT out of me, and I have no idea why. HELP ME WITH THIS.)

But, uh. Anyway. Guess that's...it. I just wanted y'all to see those pictures. And tell you about my Goonies problem. And, with all of that out of the way, I'll head on back to the Howard Johnson, because I bet Craig T. Nelson is missing the heck out of me by now. Talk to y'all soon!

Posted by doxie in General Whining | permalink


Will it be a haunted gift guide? Because that's the only way it could top last year's!

Posted by: Vaguely Urban | November 13, 2006 12:45 PM

I'm finding it very difficult to become addicted to your blog, as much as I lurve it; b/c I'm sure no self-respecting addict would be able to commit to daily check-ins to see if there has been an update. No addict would be sitting at her desk doing, you know, "work", majorly jonesing for her fix, then go to her favourite pusher which she does several times a day, only to see that the pusher is still, presumably on vacation with all the money that has come her way through the pushing. No, any self-respecting addict would REFUSE to do business with that pusher. There are millions of other blogs to become addicted to, it's not as if this is the only game in town, right? Who has time to become addicted when I only get a little taste once every two-three weeks?

But sadly, there it is. It's like, sure there are other blogger pushers out there, but no other blogger-pusher has anywhere from 4-8 tiny angry little dachshunds on her site, and maybe funny drawings and possibly tales of haunted houses, el Dukay, and 'close encounters of the lawyerly kind'. It's like you're the only pure blog in town, in a neighbourhood bursting with blogs cut with corn starch and flour (or whatever pushers cut their product with).

So I persist. Sigh.

Posted by: Canadian lurker | November 13, 2006 12:54 PM

You don't call, you don't write, you don't send flowers....
I want to be angry with you...but, but... you're home now and that's all that matters.

Let's never separate again, 'k?

Posted by: TamiW | November 13, 2006 01:19 PM

dude. just, woah.

Posted by: shy me | November 13, 2006 01:48 PM

Did the grass fill out the proper FMLA paperwork? 'Cuz if it didn't, then you wouldn't have to wait up to 12 weeks for it to come back. You could go get replacment grass now!

Glad you got all the absconders back quickly. My 2 k-9 kids are quicker than lightning when they get even the tiniest hint that freedom is possible.

Posted by: ishouldbeworking | November 13, 2006 02:07 PM

Bad things happen to kids who star in Poltergeist movies, just so you know. So take care of those dogs. If you need a short, chunky, bespectacled lady to come guide you through it, let me know. I'll pack up the box purse and squeaky sensible shoes and be there.

Posted by: Miss Fish | November 13, 2006 02:09 PM

"Dukay and I sprang into action by tearing through the mud, up the hill, and basically grabbing anything short, brown, and wiggly, by any short wiggly part we could get a hold of."

Okay snorting water all over my keyboard in the middle of a Monday. This makes up for the long absence. Thanks!

Posted by: Amber | November 13, 2006 02:25 PM

Yaaaaay, Miss Doxie is back! but OMG - ruined shoes - now that just isn't right. Sorry about the yard, grass and fence, too. Glad the dogs were quickly rounded up and the fence repaired. Hope the lawn reappears soon. (But especially glad you're back!)

Posted by: Linda | November 13, 2006 02:27 PM

"Fence will be back tomorrow."

I think that note makes sense, coming from the folks whose previous note read, "Call me about the whole in your yard."

Can't wait to read the Gift Guide!

Will Miss Doxie's new doggie comic book be on the list?? I'll stay tuned to find out!

Posted by: LadyBug | November 13, 2006 02:27 PM

I am now extremely freaked out, remembering far too much of Poltergeist than is safe. And "The Ring"! Vile woman, I won't sleep tonight.

Posted by: HollyRhea | November 13, 2006 02:33 PM


#1 - is that a cross in your yard (or former "yard") warding off evil spirits?

#2 - you can sell all falling heirlooms on e-bay and buy some humungo vats o' wine. Which is well deserved.

#3 - Perhaps Bo should be monitoring TBS for any future evil schemes, I mean SHOWS, that you need to watch for "edumacational" purposes.

Posted by: Luck O' the Irish | November 13, 2006 02:44 PM

Okay, so, yes, it does look like I have a cross in my yard, in order to better ward off evil (winged or otherworldly). But actually, that is a birdfeeder, in statue-form, and it is shaped like the statue from Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. Like, on the cover on the book? The girl with the things? In the cemetery? And it is vaguely...green?

Anyway. It used to be surrounded by flowers, but no more. Also, it is ridiculously heavy, and will be there no matter how many earthmovers they throw at it. So there, hoodoo!

Posted by: Miss Doxie | November 13, 2006 02:54 PM

Do you not see that it was the CIA? Because you are on every airline watchlist since your misadventures in Dallas, the "agency" is building a new detention facility in your backyard. You will be held there for years and years until put on trial in the spanking new Donald Rumsfeld Military Tribunal, Courthouse, and Fear of God Building. Also in your backyard. What part of this do you not understand? Georgia went for Bush in 2004, deal with it.

Posted by: Michael | November 13, 2006 03:49 PM

Ummm, I hate to tell you this, but the rumor is that Craig T. Nelson has a severe dachshund allergy.

I can't even imagine having to chase down 7 dachshunds, in the night no less. Gawd.

Posted by: christine | November 13, 2006 03:50 PM

Wasn't there a mud pit in Poltergeist? A mud pit with dead people in it? Stay away from the pit! And if that creepy, little lady with the messed up voice shows up at your house? You have my sympathy.

Posted by: Kanigget | November 13, 2006 03:53 PM

I don't think you have ghost. I think you have must offended the "grass & fence" Gods. That's why you end up with wholes and disappearing fences! LOL! :D Sorry but don't the city/sewer people they have to at LEAST try to contact you before digging up your front & back yard??

Posted by: Lilie | November 13, 2006 04:02 PM

I'm just glad you took photos because damn, the place DOES look haunted.

Posted by: Anne Glamore | November 13, 2006 04:28 PM

Jack Bauer took your grass. Your grass knows something and Jack is the only one who can get your grass to talk. You'll get your grass back eventually. After it's been photographed naked with other grasses piled on top of it.

If you let Bo run into the light, no one would think differently of you.

Posted by: Mrs.MGA | November 13, 2006 04:48 PM

Oh my word, Doxie, you have the worst possible yard luck EVER. But the best skillz in writing about it so that I snort milk out my nose. (Yummy.) Glad you're back!

Posted by: Heather | November 13, 2006 04:48 PM

Hoodo afoot.....Hoohoohoohoohoohoohoohoohahahaha

Posted by: mackmomma | November 13, 2006 04:51 PM

How anyone can make the disappearance of a yard and fence so VERY funny is beyond me, but you certainly should win an award for best "City fucking up my world" story.

Looking forward to the gift guide. :D

Posted by: takin chances | November 13, 2006 04:51 PM

So, now you have no grass in the front yard - no grass in the back yard -- basically you're all living in a big ole mud pit -- sounds like you gotta change the name of the house to the Pig Stye (my spelling stinks). :-) Thanks for the laughs again.

Posted by: Northern_Southerner | November 13, 2006 05:27 PM

I just choked on tea, in my not-even-quite-a-cubicle, in front of three co-workers, trying not to laugh. I *so* just got busted. But it was worth it.

I vote for #2, by the way, as the scarier picture. You can almost see Bo plotting to pull you into the T.V. with him for sticking him in that costume.

Posted by: Cat | November 13, 2006 06:29 PM

Goonies! Haven't seen that in aaages! Sloth: Hey, you guys!

Posted by: Simone | November 13, 2006 07:08 PM

7 weiner dogs on the prowl is what my family would call, "The angry mob." Or, 'the attack of the short legs.' We love those weiner dogs so.

Posted by: Alicat | November 13, 2006 08:24 PM

Usually I do not comment because I am intimidated by the other funny people. But I feel like I should tell you that it's ok that the dead guy in the freezer with Chunk is your scariest thing, because know what mine is? It's the part in the song "Thriller" when Vincent Price starts talking about grisly ghouls and tombs and the funk of forty thousand years. Then he laughs super-evilly at the end. This fear dates back to me at age five, when Michael Jackson was my absolute favorite and I would listen to the Thriller album on my Fisher-Price record player, while wearing a sleeveless purple t-shirt that said "Beat It". It never failed though- much as I loved that song, I would turn the volume down completely while Vincent talked. Then I'd turn it back up when I knew he was done. And when I hear Thriller on the radio, I still turn that part down. I mean, it's almost as scary as a puddle of water on the floor.

Posted by: Meegan | November 13, 2006 09:16 PM

Wow! I think you totally broke Bo's spirit. And that is the scariest thing of all. I mean, he's either allergic to the fleece, or he is about to cry. Bo's probably plotting to leave something special in your favorite pair of shoes.

Posted by: Kanigget | November 13, 2006 09:20 PM

I am now beginning to understand why Bo does a lot of that "gnashing of the teeth" bit that he does. It's alllllll coming very clear now.

Remember how you felt when you had to wear elf tights? Ok, multiply that by 100,000 and I think you have how Bo must feel and why, the rest of the year, Bo hates!

Definitely the scarier of the two photos. Especially if your name is Bo.

Posted by: Serenity | November 13, 2006 10:51 PM

Technically, Bo is way scarier, but I'm not scared of him because I know better than to tease moody creatures named after cartoon mooses.

Ooh! I just had another costume idea for Bo!

Next year, just paint TNT on his sides, because (and this is good) he's volatile, unpredictable, and you never know when he is going to go off.

Posted by: Contrary | November 13, 2006 11:21 PM

More pictures, yay! I'm so glad I came back.
I have been looking at the original pictures again. I think the close up of the spectral "thing" is really Bo in the neighbor's yard. He must be standing on something taller than the fence. Anyway, it looks like he drew a picture of himself like the ones in the I-Pod commercials. See the long earflap and the pointy nose. Yep that's Bo. Or maybe the Hoodo is trying to lure him away.

Posted by: mackmomma | November 14, 2006 12:52 AM

Bo looks like he's considering the many ways in which he would like to maul you guys...and he's really taking his time, because he wants to make sure he chooses the most tooth-filled and painful.

And yes, that is way more terrifying than some crusty old skeleton in a wig.

Posted by: ChickenFlicken | November 14, 2006 10:14 AM

Hee. Y'all are funny. And, Meegan, you should comment every day, because you are very, very right about the Vincent Price. Completely terrifying, and I am going to start turning down the radio over here, too. Because I'm a follower like that.

Posted by: Miss Doxie | November 14, 2006 10:28 AM

Whee, Doxie's back! But not her grass! Boo! Hey Doxie, I'm moving to Savannah soon, and (thanks to that ghost tour I insisted on attending) apparently, the whole of Savannah is built on dead people! Good times. Can I borrow Craig T Nelson?

Posted by: missbanshee | November 14, 2006 10:43 AM

That's a lot to read for my first time. Maybe when I'm not trying to convince myself I'm being productive...

But I read your about stuff... and if you can't pronounce apocalypse, I'm sure you love that new movie coming out: Apocalyptico.

Posted by: Chris Hayes | November 14, 2006 10:59 AM

I'd have to say the Bo photo is scarier. Mostly because, you know, the skeleton is less likely to POOP on anything.

Posted by: LadyBug | November 14, 2006 11:29 AM

I was hoping to dress up my little wienerdog, Punkin, for holidays (I just adopted her last May). However, it really pissed her off when I put a sweater on her a few weeks ago. She somehow decided that it was Albert the Wonderpug's fault and attacked him. Sigh.

She is obviously just the spontaneous sort and not at all plotty like Bo.

Posted by: janeygirl | November 14, 2006 11:29 AM

I think perhaps Miss Doxie should forget all this lawyerly shit and become a full time blogger. Miss Doxie everyday! Miss Doxie Comic books, t-shirts, mouse pads and dog sweaters. Think of the marketing possibilities!

Posted by: Attention Whore | November 14, 2006 11:57 AM

I have never been able to watch Goonies a second time.

Posted by: Daisy | November 14, 2006 12:17 PM

Delurking to tell you I love your stories! Hi! Too bad you didn't get a better glimpse of Dallas while you were here. Also, Bo's is the scarier picture. Way scarier!

Posted by: Leeny | November 14, 2006 02:12 PM

I have chased a lot of dogs. Once a group of us had to chase a dog for 2+ hours on Christmas day. At one point there were three of us lying on the ground waiting for her to come over and sniff us. Craziness. And yet, the thought of chasing 7 dachsunds into the night through a pit of dachsund-sucking mud? So much worse. Nightmare inducing.

Posted by: Kizz | November 14, 2006 02:16 PM

So glad you're back...

I should really know better than to read your blog at work. I don't know what people will think if they see me sitting here wiping tears out of my eyes if they don't realize I'm laughing...

I not only was laughing at this post but also the old one you linked to about all the scary movie stuff. I have to tell you, trite as it may sound, that "The Blair Witch Project" was the scariest for me. I also was seriously creeped out by that old classic, "The Night of the Living Dead." But then I haven't seen "The Ring."

I'm glad you were able to recapture all the dogs! I could just see you and Dukay running around in the mud trying to round them up.

Posted by: Mauigirl52 | November 14, 2006 03:05 PM

Second picture scariest by far! Showed it to my 25# cat Sam and even he was given pause!

Posted by: Gayle Miller | November 14, 2006 03:16 PM

I am sorry, but I was not prepared to scroll down to the skeleton because I fully expected Bo, with teeth even. So the skeleton? Scared the bejesus out of me. The BEJESUS.

I'll pray for your grass...

Posted by: a horrible warning | November 14, 2006 07:17 PM

Alright.. do the tear-up-your-yard people NOT know you are a frickin lawyer?? I mean, can't you threaten them w/ a stern voice and all that legalese? Make them give you back your grass.. I mean, wtf dude? Legally speaking of course.

How is it that you miss all the notes about these things girl? I worry for you. Train one of those little brown beauties to sniff for notes by yard-tearer-uppers, ok ok? For your own sake!

Posted by: Angel | November 14, 2006 08:38 PM

I totally lost it at the angry prison break and the followup brown and wiggly things. Completely.

And Gimmme. Oh, Gimmme. I have a Gimmme, but his name is Bruiser, and different breed. Heh.

Posted by: Lynnster | November 14, 2006 08:41 PM

Good thing they weren't whippets like my dogs. Forget about the chase. You'd just get down on your knees in the mud and give up throwing your hands up in the air. Consider yourself lucky. Maybe I'll consider Dachsunds my next go around.

Also Gimmme with 3 m's....hysterical.

Posted by: Shari | November 14, 2006 08:44 PM

"Please bring me Dr. Peter Venkman". Hee. Thank you for dredging that out of my subconscious.

Posted by: JunieB | November 14, 2006 11:21 PM

Miss Doxie! my adored one! I'm glad to read from you, I was missing you. Thanks for coming back to us! love you! your #1 fan.

Posted by: DoxieFan | November 15, 2006 11:49 AM

You are going to come home someday and will think that you are lost, because instead of your house there will just be one gigantic mudpit. 'Cause you know, in Poltergeist the entire HOUSE got sucked into that vortex and disappeared. This, thankfully, means that you will have missed the bodies heaving out of the ground part, but still. Can you imagine the WTF moment you would have to come home to no house? With, of course, the peacefully chirping birds proclaiming all is normal.

And of course you will have missed the note on the sidewalk under a rock: House back tomorrow. mk

p.s. LOVE the skeleton in the window pic and may have to borrow that idea.

Posted by: markira | November 15, 2006 02:27 PM

I am a first timer here, and can see why you have such a following - I had to take this in bit by bit so as to avoid snorting my black tea, spitting my water, or choking on a 3 Musketeers whipped chocolate bite.
All around good times, can't wait for the next installment!

Posted by: Miss Sassy | November 15, 2006 03:43 PM

I have to say, I too FREAKED THE FUCK OUT at The Girl Who Comes Out Of the TV, yo. As well as the whole "clown under the bed" scene in Poltergeist. Terrified me for years. Also: The Grudge, Tale of Two Sisters, and Jaws (which has kept me out of the ocean for, oh, MY ENTIRE LIFE).

And I, too, am strangely drawn to things I know will horrify me and scar me for life. Which is probably why I have two crazed miniature dachshunds right now, and am looking for a third. I REPEAT: LOOKING FOR A THIRD.

No, I don't know what is wrong with me, either. :/

Posted by: Lola | November 15, 2006 07:18 PM

To make money, I watch a machine as it makes yarn. And I press a button to stop the machine if the yarn breaks. And that is my day.

(twice a week, but still).

Today I was running yarn that couldn't break. The machine just ran and ran, and I watched it run. No breaking. My reason for existence was taken from me. There was no earthly reason for me to be there, and yet, there I was.

So I hoped and prayed and went to missdoxie. And she had a new entry!! And I laughed! And for 5 minutes, the unbreakable yarn had not broken me. I was human again. And I thank you Miss Doxie for giving me my humanity back.

Posted by: Theresa | November 16, 2006 01:14 AM

I keep coming back to look at the sheer disgust mixed with terrifying RAGE on Bo's face. I had no idea that a dog could express such feelings with just a look, but then again, he is Bo.

Posted by: ChickenFlicken | November 16, 2006 02:31 PM

Where's the holiday shopping blog? I need to buy my Christmas presents!

Posted by: Haley | November 16, 2006 10:11 PM

HOORAAAAAAY for Miss Doxie and her tales of woe! I thought I was pissed about all the construction crap in my front yard going 24/7...but the hoodoo and escaping dogs do beat all. Miss Doxie, ah thank yew from the bottom of mah lil' ole' heart for returning. We missed you!

Posted by: Meepers | November 17, 2006 01:10 AM

Where do I start?

The skeleton is scarier, the movie "The Ring" made me quite freaked, "Poltergeist" was a tamely-scary movie (except.for.the.clowndoll) and "the fence will be back tomorrow" is one of the funniest lines I've ever read.

Dearest Miss Doxie,

Please don't let us wither without your waterings, as you just recently did. We are of foliage, but we are breathing beings. Without a dash o' Doxie, we are left to fend for ourselves, to wilt. We need *Doxie-Water* (tm).

Thank you for your kindest considerations.


PS--Scariest movie scene ever? "The Exorcist," updated, where the bitch-devil descends the stairs in a totally un-human-like "spider-crawl." I have problems with that, personally. I like to view humans moving in human-like motions. When they don't? Gibbering, fast-freeze-angled? It is freaky. But. That is neither here nor there.

Happy Thanksgiving/Christmas/New Years/MLK Day/Valentine's Day/Easter!

Until we meet again!

Posted by: adambomb1973 | November 17, 2006 02:47 AM

OMG! Preppy embroidered cords for Dukay: http://melissacmorris.blogspot.com/

Posted by: Missy | November 17, 2006 11:07 AM

OMG, pimp gear for Bo!


Posted by: missbanshee | November 17, 2006 05:10 PM

I think that the combination of the red and blue fleece jacket, the pink collar and the orange pumpkin hat with green leaf is absolutely the scariest. Bo is not showing his teeth because the stunning horror of his costume has rendered him catatonic.

Posted by: Gillian | November 19, 2006 07:03 PM

Ugh, I hated the poltergeist scene with the pork chop then his face falls apart...ugh..gag.. watched it the other day..not so gaggy anymore. I'm jaded.

Posted by: KaraMia | November 20, 2006 01:48 PM

Firstly, your blog about The Ring. I thought I was the only one! My fiance and sister made me see it in the theatre and I had nightmares for, like, a year. My sister would flip her hair over her head just to torture me. I couldn't be in a room alone for ages. I'd freak and run. Sad, I know.

Secondly, the only thing scarier than the teeth of Bo would be you and Dukay bringing the dogs to the Howl-o-Weenie, a dachshund festival to benefit dachshund rescue in Georgia. Usually is in Glenn Lake Park here in Decatur. You will never see so many dachshunds in one place. Ever. Scary.

Posted by: Shannon R. | November 20, 2006 05:06 PM

You need to call on St. Joseph, the patron saint of builders to get your fence back and to St. Rock the patron saint of dogs for general assistance with those snout bearers.

St. Rock has one of the only two dogs in heaven. His dog brought him food when he had a plague and licked his wounds. When St. Rock went to heaven and looked around for his dog, they told him, "Sorry no dogs in heaven." So he pouted and refused to enter. His dog got in.

The other dog in heaven is Katmir, the dog of the Seven Sleepers. Just Katmir and St. Rock's dog, Licky.

The rest of the dead ghost dogs must be in your back yard.

Posted by: sister mary martha | November 21, 2006 03:30 AM

Civil War? Civil War?

Miss Doxie - as a good ole Southern gal, you MUST know it was the War of Northern Aggression?

Posted by: Gayle Miller | November 21, 2006 02:20 PM

Dude, Coach!

Posted by: andy | November 22, 2006 10:30 AM

Everytime I start to forget about the woman coming out of the TV, I read about it here. EEK!!! AFter seeing that movie-which-will-remain-nameless, I was afraid of TV's, horses, water, farms, little girls, VCR's, trees, wells, and Naomi Watts. So, I feel your pain. Well, not totally, cuz I live in a townhouse and never have to worry about my yard disappearing in the night. Or day, for that matter.

Posted by: Erin | November 22, 2006 01:01 PM

wow, I never particularly enjoyed that part of the goonies more..it may be scarier than Bo in his pumpkin hat outfit even..though my doxie Miss Piggy liked it..she wouldnt want me to mention it but i think she has some pumpkin fetish, as i discovered her relationship with my jack o lantern on halloween..well anyways, good luck with your grass..maybe itll come back?

Posted by: Britni | November 22, 2006 10:50 PM

I just wanted to wish you a very Happy and relaxing Thanksgiving. I'd like to say uneventful but what would you write about? :) Ok so I hope it's not TOO eventful, like, your house fell apart or anything.

Well, any MORE apart.


Posted by: Jennah | November 23, 2006 05:19 PM

OMG! That was so funny I almost wet my knickers, which is not a good thing while in a work environment, my Dark Masters tend to frown on levity in general. Anyway, isn't funny how the city can just oh-so-cavilierly decide to come and knock down your fence with not even a day or two of warning, not to mention murdering your grass and flowers. And you wonder why some people move to Idaho and dig bunkers loaded with things that go boom.
BTW, I love your blog and have my own little dachsund so I can relate to your doggy tribulations. But hey, Wiener Dogs rule! Thank you for the giggles, and if you can, check out my blog. Best wishes for a lovely Thanksgiving,

Posted by: Sharon | November 23, 2006 05:27 PM

Hey lady! Where are you? Are you stuck in the TV (obviously put there by evil overlord Bo) or are you curled up in a corner with several bottles of wine trying to stave off the madness that is the up and coming Christmas season?

Posted by: Wen | November 26, 2006 08:50 PM

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