R.I.P. Daisy Mae Cross (2011 – 2019)

…our geeky girl dog

Today, at 2:53 PM, our sweet Daisy died. She had most likely been ill for 3-4 months, but went into a swift decline over the past two weeks.

Daisy came into our lives just a few days after we lost Lucy to cancer. She had been dropped off at a chihuahua rescue and was about 2 years old when that rescue took her to the county shelter, where we adopted her.

Daisy was a very sweet girl with an excellent temperament. She loved humans and would visit all of them at the dog park. Everyone liked Daisy.

Daisy was an ubergeek, loving Star Trek, Doctor Who, Harry Potter, kaiju movies, the MCU and roleplaying games. She was a dedicated con attendee (in a human looking android body) and cosplayer.

Daisy was actually preceded 10 minutes in death by her mate, Max Bunnington, as he had always sworn to do. Death in our family being a rather less final thing than most families, Daisy & Max are out there somewhere in new bodies starting new lives. However, they are gone for good from our lives.

Daisy leaves behind her parents, her sister, her brother, her sister in law, her niece & nephew, many aunties & uncles, and many more friends.

Goodbye, baby girl. We all miss you.

Who Put The Rocket Fuel In Mrs. Murphy’s Swimming Pool?

…and by “rocket fuel”, I mean bourbon.

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After The Change Came

Series 4

A Day For Hangin’ With My Homeboys


Every couple of years, the Green Ladies put on a “Females Gathering Together Day”, during which sapient females of all species gather in large numbers to…well, I’m not 100% sure, being cis male and therefore gently, but firmly, excluded. From what I have gleaned from being around a Green Lady and lots of other women (including daughters, granddaughters and sisters), it seems to be mostly discussions about things particular to females, plus examinations of world events. Whatever the case, females of all ages go, meaning that, for an entire day and part of a night, we males are left to our own devices, hopefully not going feral in the process.

So, the latest “F.G.T.D.” was a couple of days ago and I figured, why not have some of the guys over and hang out? I called up Dad, Sin, my troll buddy Jim, Roscoe, Nick, my cousin Rob, my gnome brother Hank (the others live to far away), and my elf neighbor Dendro, and invited them over. They all showed up and since the weather was great, we set up shop in the front yard (the backyard being Grace’s garden retreat) and settled in for beer, bullshittin’ and burgers.

Will loves hanging with his Grandpa and soon had Dad telling stories about me and my sibs when we were growing up and still human. This, of course, lead to stories from Dad’s youth, at least those suitable for a 7 year old to hear. From there, it was stories from everyone’s youth, most of which were hilarious, embarrassing or both. Will was particularly interested in the stories Sin and I told about our years at Hobart’s School For Young Ladies & Gentlemen, again, edited for younger listeners.

After a couple of hours of storytelling that got improved by about 4 mugs of Jim’s “Damn Fine” ale, we moved on to discussing everything from the weather to beer brewing to hog farming to good fishing spots in the foothills. Nick, sensing that some of these topics were boring Will, took him in the house for a couple of hours playing a new QuestWorld scenario from Portugal, “Pirate Heist”.

When it came time to eat, Ben, our House Elf, did not disappoint. It was a hell of a spread, with burgers of several types, all the toppings and condiments you’d want, and Ben’s delicious chili lime steak fries. I had a double cheeseburger with Brie and Gouda, topped with fire roasted chilis. Okay, I had two of those. Don’t judge me.

After lunch, and with most of us now well lubricated by beer, we got back into discussing all sorts of things for an hour or so before Ben busted out the ice cream. It was, of course, delicious. Thus fortified, we busted out the musical instruments and started playing everything from classic Pre-Change country and rock to some of the latest hits. There was also a good deal of just plain old jamming.

Around about sundown, Ben produced the taco bar and we all once again ate like starving wolverines. From there, it was another hour or so of talking before everyone headed for home. I put Will to bed and then promptly fell asleep on the sofa in the living room.

About 3 hours later, a cute little green face woke me up saying “Daddy, you need to go to bed now!”, so I did.

All told, it was a fine day of male bonding. And none of us went feral!

More blogging soon.

Doc Tempest And The Secret Of The Vampire’s Tomb

…from the May, 1927 issue

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After The Change Came

Series 4

Feeling Old In Dog Years


This Friday, my four kids graduate from college. That is on top of them all turning 9 years old a couple of weeks ago. I’m feeling a bit old here, folks. Now, at 19, I’ve still got a few decades to go, but these are our babies all grown up and graduating college here. Gigi and I have been alternately smiling and misty eyed. Now I know how mom & dad felt when Lily and I left home.

Well, actually, except for the fact that Lily and I left home years apart and I only moved like, 150 feet away when I got married and…well, we weren’t a litter of four who actually all moved out 4 years ago. June lives over in Davis and April & May are in Berkeley and Nick is still here in Sacramento, so it’s not like they are scattered to the four winds. Yet.

That “yet” is the big thing, see. April will be moving on to Oxford in the fall and May is off to an art institute in Paris and June is moving to Kaua’i to do botanical research and Nick…well, okay, Nick isn’t moving anywhere, but he recently got an apartment with his girlfriend, Vicki, so there’s that bit of adulthood to deal with. It’s just a lot to have happen to poor old Mom & Dad.

Those of you out there with empty nests and grown kids are probably chuckling knowingly. You can bet my parents are, and have been for weeks. I fully intend to do my own chuckling when Will & Gin leave home in about 11 years.

Of course, having the kids move out has freed up lots of space in the house, although two of their bedrooms are still bedrooms. Our grocery bill plummeted the day they all left home, although it spikes during holidays. All other bills went down, too. Education at all levels is free and the kids have no problem living within their yearly government allotment, so that is a good thing.

It did take us months to get used to the house being so quiet.

Anyway, this Friday will be all about their big day and parties to celebrate and family and friends congratulating them. They’ll all come home for a month, then split for their various destinations. Gigi and I could not be prouder of them. We will miss them, though.

Thanks for listening to an old hound deal with a milestone, folks. Next time, I’ll have something lighter to blog about.

Roscoe

The 3rd of Juney, Sockerooni, Looney Toony, Big Full Moony Story Of Mostly Purple Patty And Irwin, The Farty Kitty.

…co-starring her arch-nemesis, Rather Red Rita

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Sasha Explains It All

Thoughts On Motherhood

As many of you may knows, a bit over a year ago, I decided to make a baby. No, that is not a euphemism for fucking, or even getting pregnant. First off, I hate cutesy euphemisms for anything, and second of all, I’ve been spayed since I was 6 months old. The baby train will not be stopping in my abdomen. Well, not in this life. Next time, who knows?

No, I decided to go into my lab and create a baby using my DNA as well as the DNA of other species. Not wanting my child to be a canine who would be compared to an incomparable bitch like me, I opted to make her mostly a gorilla. But not all gorilla. I added my DNA to upgrade both her hearing and her sense of smell. My DNA also helped move her from herbivore to true omnivore. I added a bit of human DNA (Thank you, Steve Rogers) to give her a more upright way of walking and a larger brain. Finally, I used some homemade DNA to make her fur and eyes bright yellow.

I put the fertilized egg into the incubator and 6 months later, on June 1st, 2018, Cupcake Waterfall Cross was born. She was tiny and beautiful and I cried when I first held her. She was perfect and I was a mother at age 9 ½. My family loves her, but they also wonder if I lost my mind. To be honest, sometimes I wonder, too.

Cupcake was a very good infant. She ate well, slept a lot and was, of course, very healthy. But we non-humans mature much quicker than Homo sapiens do, so infancy lasted about 3 months. After that, I had a full on toddler. Those of you with kids know that the moment that baby starts walking, life get much busier and more exciting. Now imaging that your baby can also climb and can use her feet almost as well as she uses her hands. Being an active and curious baby, Cupcake was soon into everything. All of us were constantly on guard.

At 6 months, Cupcake started to talk and I have to admit, her vocabulary grew even faster than mine did. So did her ability to talk nonstop and to ask a zillion questions a day. It is both a wonderful and tiring thing. She also was there when her little brother was born. She found the baby fascinating and was very gentle with him. That lasted about 3 months.

By 9 months, she was ready for Mixed Pre-School with other NHT kids and human kids. She really likes school. It is a bit sad that she and the other NHT will pull way ahead of their human friends, but that’s how biology goes.

Now, at 1 year old and after a few adjustments in the Genetic Manipulation Chamber, Cupcake is about where a 6 year old would be mentally and physically. A year from now she’ll be a tween and about 6 months after that she will hit puberty, which thankfully will only take about 2-3 months to get through.

Brownie was born on January 29th, 2019. That was Dad’s 65th birthday and I figured a grandson was a hell of a gift.

Brownie is a genetic mix of raccoon, lemur, dog and human. If you think of Rocket Raccoon with a slightly longer snout, a bit larger eyes, slightly longer arms & legs and a longer, fully prehensile tail, but in light and dark blue fur, you’ve got my boy.

Brownie was a bit more active as a baby and, being a boy, able to pee in my face from a longer distance away when I was changing his diapers. It also meant he was a climber much earlier. By 6 weeks old he was climbing all over and I had several more white hairs on my head.

Brownie was talking at 2 months and was aggravating his sister soon thereafter. Hardly a day goes by without him getting chased around by Cupcake, who threatens him with all manner of mayhem. As with most brothers, he learned quickly how to push his sister’s buttons.

Being a smaller NHT, Brownie will mature even faster than his sister. By his second birthday, he’ll be a full on teenager. I’ll be 12 years old by then and probably a heavy drinker.

Despite my humor, my kids are pretty normal and good children. They were made to be smart, caring and unique. I love them more than anything or anyone else in the world. Given another chance, would I have jumped into motherhood sooner? Oh, hell yes. Probably around 5 or 6 years old. Would I have taken a mate so they had a father? Nope. No need to, when they have wonderful uncles and a singular grandfather.

One last thing, a question that I have been asked more than once: What about the fact that I, realistically, have probably only 4-7 years left to live?

Well, the kids will be adults and on their own in 3 years or so, so I’ll be about 14 ½ then. It won’t be like if I go tits up then, they’ll be children. They will be able to deal with it.

But, of course, when this body dies, it won’t be the last of me. Hell, right now I’m out there as a human female and another breed of dog, having put my katra into both those bodies 4 years ago. When this iteration of me dies, another iteration will wake up a few minutes later in a secure lab somewhere. The new me, who may or may not be a basset hound or even a dog, will go visit the kids/grandkids/siblings, etc. and then start a new life. Death is for people who don’t plan ahead.

Anyway, having kids is the Best Thing I’ve ever done and I wouldn’t change a thing that’s happened since Cupcake was born.

I could stand to hear less of the word “Poophead” though.

Until my next rant,

Dr. Sasha Jane Cross, PhD (X8)

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