Late Sat. night we packed up in San Antonio and drove to Austin, about an hour away. By the time we got there, checked in and finally were settled in it was about 2:30am. My wake up call was for 6:30, just 4 hours later. At 3:15, just as I was really getting to sleep the young  (20 somethings) in the room next door rolled in, making enough noise to wake the dead and then some. I assumed they literally rolled in for I know that they were waay too drunk to have driven or even walked.

Of course Doug, AKA Doug who nothing wakes, slept right through all the commotion. I waited 5 minutes to see if they would settle. They didn’t; so I called the front desk. Thirty minutes later, they were still at it so I called again. This time the security guard paid them a call. I finally got to sleep about 4am. When the wake-up call came at 6:30 I was sure it was a mistake; it really couldn’t be time to get up. Sadly, I was wrong.

As I was brushing my teeth thought-I used to be able to party with the best of them. I drank 151 proof daiquiris on the rocks and danced til 4 am- no problem. What happened? Of course when my mind finally cleared I remembered that was almost 40 years ago. Life happened. As I was dragging my happy ass out to the car I paused for a minute in front of my room. Then I leaned over, made a fist and pounded on the door next to ours like my life depended on it.  It probably didn’t even wake them, but it made me feel good anyway. Yeah, I know it was childish. In the car on the way to the event I realized I’ve become one of those grouchy old people I used to make fun of. That sucked.

The kite festival was fantastic. The weather was perfect. I painted steadily from 10am til 5:30, without  1 break. By the end of the day, I thought my arm might just fall off. It didn’t of course, but I wouldn’t have been surprised if it had. The Exchange Club takes 30% off the top, then sends us a check for the rest. That really hurts financially; however at least it’s for a good cause.

On the way to the Red Roof we stopped and had dinner. My shoulder was throbbing and I had already taken 4 Alleve and numerous Advil during the day so I ordered a liquid pain killer at Polvos. One Long Island Iced Tea did the trick. I didn’t feel any pain for a couple of hours., and was quiet when we got to our room. (At least I was a considerate drunk).

I noticed yesterday while packing to come home that somehow, the shirt I’d been wearing after having my liquid analgesic  was spot-free- no small feat on a regular day. (The whole big boobs thing you know). But remaining spot-free after a meal of queso and fajitas when I was blitzed- that’s more of a miracle. Where’s CNN when you need them?

One day Major Dennis received orders that his unit was to relocate. According to regs the Marines would not be able to keep Nubs so they watched as he ran alongside the Hummers as they pulled away. Two days later, in 18 degree weather, Nubs showed up at their new camp.  They said he looked as if he’d been in a war. Nubs had traveled 70 miles through the desert to find his old friends. The Marines then decided that Nubs deserved to stay and have a better life, even building him a doghouse. Eventually the Benita of the unit ratted them out and the M.P.’s showed up saying that Nubs had to go within four days or be shot. Brian Dennis and his friends launched an internet campaign and raised the money needed to get Nubs to the U.S.

Skip to the happy ending- Nubs now lives in Southern California with Brian Dennis. The story of their friendship and unique bond is documented in the book Nubs: The true story of a Mutt, a Marine & a Miracle.