This week's Brentwood Home Page column

Had a fun new job last week that, thankfully, was temporary.

Skip this if you don't want to read about dog barf

Allow me to write about my dog for a moment.

We have a 3-year-old Mastiff named Lucy who really is the best dog in the world.

She has no annoying habits that I can think of. She only barks when strangers cross our property line. She does exactly what we say exactly when we say it.

She stands quietly in front of the back door when she wants to go out. When she's done chasing squirrels, she comes to the back door and barks once. Every time. In the car, she sits quietly in the seat.

She doesn't beg for food. Even if we leave food out or have a trash bag momentarily unsupervised in the kitchen, she ignores it.

The worst thing she does is pester the heck out of people who visit by nudging them relentlessly if they are not constantly petting her.

Oh, and she takes up most of our bed, when we let her up there and I put out a fleece blanket.

But she does this one thing that I find so weird.

She is a stealth barfer.

Most dogs make a huge ordeal out of upchucking. There's usually a random awakening from a nap followed by dramatic heaving with that weird repetitive urp noise that makes the entire household run around screaming.

I mean, who hasn't tried to grab a wretching dog around the ribs in an attempt to drag it outside while someone else in the house flings open the nearest door? It's one time when all family members unite for a common cause: clean carpet.

The thing about Lucy is that we never get our chance to experience all that drama because she gives no pre-vomit warning. I'll just be walking through the house, heading to one of the bedrooms with a load of folded laundry, and on the floor in a corner of the room I'll spy a pile of what looks like dog food.

I'll spare you the details, but it does look like someone just poured a little pile of Beneful in the corner between the wall and that ottoman.

Thankfully I've found these gifts soon after they're left. At least I think I have.

Better go take a stroll around the house.

How the water made such a mess

This link shows security camera footage of the flood last week as four feet of water came into a Pep Boys store.

This week's Brentwood Home Page column

Some days I really feel old around all the young mommies at our elementary school.

500 Year Storm in Nashville

The top photo is our local YMCA, which is not quite a mile from my house. The water reaches the steps that lead into the building. The bottom photo shows an intersection on a state highway that is the main drag through my part of town. This is Concord Road looking west toward Lipscomb Elementary and the YMCA. The Little Harpeth River is flowing across the street.

Click on the photos to get a better look.

Start building the ark

Our house is OK, but just two doors down from us is another story.

I took the photo at left of a front yard two doors down from us. The top photo shows the creeks that converge at the back of our lot. Based on what I've seen in the neighborhood, a creek at the back of your property is better than a creek at the side of your property.

I don't have anything clever to say about it. My mind is waterlogged.

Just file it in the back of your mind for future reference.

Nashville Monsoon of 2010

Today our area had the worst flooding in more than 30 years.

We were celebrating Tim's birthday at Mexicali Grill, and we knew it was raining, but we didn't know how bad it really was until we drove past the tornado siren right when it went off.

When we got home, the three creeks that converge at the southeast corner of our backyard had already spread across our neighbor's yard and touched the front door two doors down.

Of course, the aforementioned whirlybirds had all settled in our gutters.
"Mom, look outside Henry's window! It's a waterfall!"

Woo hoo! Happy Birthday, honey!