Party Aftermath

Just now I am able to post this. Everyone's gone, except us dogs.

I'm still exhausted. What a crazy weekend.Had a party here Saturday night. What a party it was. Itt was for Aaron's 40th birthday. Aaron and Sherry used to be lovers. They are still
friends. He is an out-of-the-closet gay who does sales for a medical equipment company, does mixed martial arts competitions on the weekends, and teaches cooking on Tuesday and Friday nights. He and Sherry are still friends so they can complain to each other about men.

I was sent to stay the night with friends who have a golden named Goldie. She's a good dog. Not too bright. Thinks rabbits are deformed puppies, eats her poop for snacks (like Flecka), and lays on her back to beg. Like I said, not too bright.Bill is the husband. He runs our of gas all the time due to forgetting to put gas in his car. So, I knew slipping away would not be a problem. Bill put me out and I waited half an hour, then shifted and slipped away. I went to Warin's and changed clothes. Warin was not there, and there was an odd odor in the house that I could not  quite identify.I went to the party, my own house, trying to act like I had never been there before. Weredogs do not tend to be good actors. So, it was a challenge.

Interesting mix of people - neo-yuppies, metroxsexuals, rednecks, old, young, white, black, brown, tan, you name it. Some were loud; some were quiet. The music was loud and the wine, beer, and vodka was overly abundant. There were so many smells and scents. Most of the people had good or OK scents. There were two I kept my eye on the entire night.I told Sherry that I was a friend of Aaron's. I told Aaron I was a friend of Sherry's. Jack asked what I was doing there. I said, "You invited me." He nodded. "Glad you're here," he said. "You can help
me tend bar and keep an eye on things." So, I helped pour beers and wine, picked up dirty plates, and mingled.

A woman named Tabitha liked my scent and started giving me the eye. I liked her eye. But, I could not allow it to go anywhere. I had to get back to Goldie's that night and be ready to be picked up the next morning to go home. Rooster would be waiting for me, hungary.

Jack and Sherry never looked at each other. You would not have known they knew each other, much less were the hosts of the party. The only time he did watch her was when she was dancing and grinding with some young pup. I decided early that I would intervene if Jack went over the edge, got pissed, let out his wolf.Some blonde in a red dress started doing lap dances. I happened to be sitting on the right couch at the right time and got my dances. It was hard to have that booty in my face and not sniff it. A young women named Mindy told me afterward that whores and strippers are all the rage, that most women have fantasies to do, at the very least, lap dances for a strange man. She said it has to do with raunch feminism. I had never heard of such a thing. How can those 2 words go together?

Jack and some guy wearing a ruffled black shirt almost got into it. I think the trigger was politics. The other guy was about 10 years younger, 10 pounds heavier, an inch taller, had sideburns all the way down his jaw, and lots of attitude. He did not have a bad scent, particularly, just drunk, or young, or both. Jack shut him up by saying that he was about
to rip the guy's head off, shit in his lungs, then boil his head till the skull shined, and drink the rest of the vodka punch out of it. I love a lot of things about Jack, and his creative use of language is one of my favorite of his talents.

I linked up out on the deck with a bunch of guys talking about Nam and Iraq. I had to be careful, I always do, when talking about past wars and soldiering.  One guy, Jerry, was Army, 1st ID, and shows signs of PTSD. He was loud, near yelling, in conversation, and tossing down vodka punch and beers like their were doggy treats. He started telling a story about going to see a guy who was in his unit over in Iraq, who lost an arm, and about how they go into an argument over crack, how to cook it. He was yelling in his telling. I was sure everyone in the neighborhood could hear him. Another guy asked him if he could not yell so much. He said, "What do you mean?" But, his scent was good.

I went to go get my coat in an upstairs bedroom and got ambushed. Tabitha grabbed me and pulled me into a bathroom ad commenced to trying to undress both of us at the same time. I have to say, I was impressed. But, what really got my attention was her aroused scent. It was not altogether human. And there was something about her eyes, the coloring of the iris. And she was much stronger than she should have been for a small woman, which she is. I had to draw on some werestrength to disentangle myself. She was not happy when I slipped
back into the hall.

Sunday Sven and Rick came to get me. I was sleeping next to Goldie under the kitchen table. She is warm. I was tired. There is nothing as comfortable as sleeping with a dog, even for a dog. They never even knew I was gone the night before, just figured I was digging around in the yard.The whole day was spent doing post-party clean-up: pressure cleaning carpets with a rented Rug Doctor (the sound it made was worse than vacuums), washing and hand drying dishes and glasses, picking up, spot cleaning, laundry, taking down tables and chairs, loading it all up into vans and trucks to be returned, etc. I, of course, just napped, or tried to, through all the noise and commotion. Flecka and I napped together upstairs, out of the way. Bella spent the day hanging out in the kitchen, waiting on scraps to fall.

Jack and the boys took us to the dog run about middle of the afternoon. It was getting cold. I loved it, ran around like a wild dog. There was a dog there that looked just like Joe, a dog I used to know.

Monday, yesterday, Jack was home all day, looking for work online, making calls, searching sites, sending off and posting resumes. He was not in a god mood the whole day. Bella, Flecka and I each tried to cheer him up by putting our head on his leg. Didn't work. Each time he told us to go away. Jack is also short with the boys, tending to yell more and more. He told me last week at the bar that he hates this, but feels powerless to stop it.

I heard something late last night, went out to investigate, in human form, because of the doorknob. It was snowing, small, fast moving flakes. They left a crust of white on the ground. On the east side of the house I found tracks. Wolf. Not werewolf. Wolf. It didn't make sense. Why would a werewolf assume wolf form in suburbs? Only werewolf and human made sense in cities. I quickly did a perimeters sweep. No more tracks, other than those going in, and going out the same way. The scent was cold.

Today Jack has been gone since just after 9:00 am. It is still snowing outside. The flakes are large and falling slow. Drifts are collecting on the deck. Various and numerous birds are coming to the feeder on the deck, which, thank God, Jack remembered to refill with seeds this morning. Fleck and Bella have slept most of the day. I
slept some, but had much to catch up on. 

I called for a pack meeting. I need to report about the tracks, and about Tabitha. 

Tonight Warin and I go out tracking, in the fresh snow and frigid temps.

Chester