Not the first time this has happened

It's been in the nineties this week so, yeah, I've just been letting Sabine go around naked. Half the time because it's so hot I just don't care, the other half because it's so hot I don't have the energy to chase after and put clothes on her. Well she pooped on the floor today. I walked into the dining room and there she was - I don't know what she was trying to do, pick it up - with her hands covered in poop.

I scooped her up and with my arms fully extended, carried her to the bathroom, washed her hands three times, cleaned up her toosh and then handed her off to Zach. I went back to the dining room to clean up the mess and it was gone. In it's place were the dogs, looking very excited about the treat they'd just received.

Mango's eating disorder

So Mango ate my chocolate earlier in the week. First off, that bitch. No one messes with a woman and her chocolate. Secondly though, I had an interesting conversation with Beckie.

I had to call her and fess up that Mango had eaten some mildly important Playschool papers that I was going to give Beckie. Somehow that led Beckie to say, "You know I give Taz Pepcid, right?" No, I hadn't known that. And I hadn't even told her about the chocolate bar yet.

She explained the vet we both take our animals to had long ago recommended giving her dog, Taz, Pepcid. He doesn't get it every day, but I guess most days. I asked her if he recommends this for all dogs, or only some. She replied that it was specific to Taz's case because he was eating whatever crap that was laying around the house, was eating all day long, burped a lot, etc. I said, "Um, that's Mango to a T."

"Oh yeah, you've said that before, that it's like Mango has an eating disorder."

That's right she does, although my mom just called it Pica.

So I'd previously put two and two together about the missing chocolate and the throw up on the floor, but it hadn't yet occured to me about the paper that Mango has been eating all week. See, normally she'll pick off some random object if we've left the dogs home alone for too long. And usually only when we're away from the house, or if we've committed some particularly attrocious crime, according to dog mores. But every time I turned a corned this week there was some half-eaten paper laying on the ground.

I expressed my confusion (as to why all of a sudden she was doing this) aloud many times throughout the week. But not until I was on the phone with Beckie did I realize that dark chocolate is extremely acidic and by eating the paper Mango was probably trying to neutralize her stomach and alliviate the heartburn she must have been experiencing from eating Mama's sweets!

So I went to the store today to get Pepcid. I can't believe no one (Beckie nor the vet) ever mentioned that to me before, but it makes perfect sense. Mango took a dose today and I have left the house, we'll see the status when I get back.

Where's my chocolate?

I had this awesome chocolate bar I got from the co-op the other day. It was like $4, the kind you eat a tiny bit of each day over the course of the whole week. I accidentally left it next to the computer the other night when I was shutting it down so I could go to bed. The next morning I was looking for it so I could put it away but I couldn't find it.

Over the course of this week I've been searching everywhere, as well as asking Zach if he's seen it. Today I finally said to him that I couldn't find it and where could it possibly be? He told me one of the dogs probably ate it. I said no way, that they would be dead, or at the very least there would have been some trace of it, a bit of wrapper, or chocolate smudge somewhere. Zach then informed me that Mango had puked in the middle of the night and he had cleaned it up on Tuesday morning. He said it was brown and had foil in it.

There's my chocolate. This was had 85% cocoa content because why have chocolate if you're not going to have CHOCOLATE?

Mango's been acting berserk all week, eating papers mostly every time I leeave the house, even just the room sometimes. Anyway, isn't that much chocolate supposed to be really bad for dogs? How come Mango is still alive? She's indestructible.

There comes a time in your child's life....

....when you have to stop blogging about the embarrassing things that happen to them. You have to look deep inside yourself and decide that telling a good story is not worth the future humiliation that they may feel from finding out their lives have been on display for the whole world to read about. It is with this in mind that I that say the following - that time has not yet come!

And thank God Jacob finds it funny and doesn't care who I tell because this is just too gross to keep inside. So I am breaking my 2 1/2 week non-blogging streak (the longest ever - I just needed a break) to tell you this brief story.

Over the weekend Jacob was running around naked, like he often does. He had made a tunnel and was squatting down to crawl under it and, you know, accidentally pooped on the deck. Puts whole new meaning to the term 'poop deck'. I wasn't there to witness it, and actually didn't believe the 'accidental' nature of the whole incident, but Zach tells me he thinks it was truly unexpected.

So Zach started freaking out because he can't take things like that. "Pookie, you gotta get out here, I can't take this!" So I went out to see what was up and there were a couple of big chunks. I ran into the house to get a handful of kleenex and when I came back out Mango was standing over where the pile had been licking her lips. Needless to say, we've all had trouble stomaching our meals and Zach no longer lets Mango lick his face.

We're so immature

Dog obedience the other night was actually really good. The lady was a good public speaker and very entertaining. But I do have to admit I was snickering at her in the beginning when she was setting up the microphone and was all, "Testing, testing, one-two." There were 15 other people in the room so I didn't think it was necessary.

Zach was so against going to dog school. He grumbled about it and I had to cause many fights getting him to sign-up for the class (it's through the college, so can you say tuition waiver). And then we went and he thought it was great, and most importantly he thought it was great and got all, "Gee, good thing I made you come with me to this thing." Like it was his idea. So I am making a mental note to add this to my arsenal of I-Told-You-So arguments for future reference.

I think we'll get some good information out of this class. I actually think some of this stuff can be applied to the human children. Bonus! But Zach and I both agree that knowing what to do is one thing, finding the time with which to do it is another matter altogether. Already we've completely forgotten to be practicing the letter we chose for her. This letter, as in one letter of the alphabet, will be her cue that we use in training. We're supposed to be saying it to her all the time, giving her treats when she looks at us when we're saying the letter, or whatever, basically letting her get to know that letter, and to like it.

So what letter did we choose? We went back and forth, how can we just pick one letter when there are 26 to choose from? Should we pick J for Jacob, G for Ginger? What to do, what to do. Finally it came to me in a flash. "F!" I shout-whispered to Zach in the middle of class. And he totally got it right away. It's a word that I shout out loud a lot because I try not to swear in front of kids, so I'm constantly shouting things like "Ef!", "Sugar!", "mother!", "Sonofa....!", and so on. Add to Ginger's F-letter, well, we'll be attempting to train Mango on our own at home, so, naturally, she'll be U.

We're going to have so much fun with this...

Obedience School

We are taking Ginger to obedience school tonight. I've been waiting for this class since before Sabine was born. We tried to get into it last year but it was full. So now we are going, as if we needed something else filling up our already packed calendar. Zach and I are having a preliminary discussion here. We've got the 4 PAGE LETTER because dog school is that big of a deal. This first night the humans go without the dogs. The letter says to bring their leashes and the collar they are currently wearing. I assumed that means bring it attached to the dog next week. Zach thinks we need to go remove her collar and tags right now and submit them this evening. We'll see about that.

The thing is we're being so careful because we're afraid to do something wrong. This lady who teaches it is the premiere dog trainer in the area. I;d say her services are quite coveted. But she is not a nice lady. I've spoken to her on the phone and when I hung up I almost had to cry just because she made me feel like such a moron. Other people I know have had experience with her, and they all say she's a B-I-T-C-H. Hoo boy. Here we go.

But I'm kind of excited to do something like this with Zach. You know, something other than fighting about the house and being stressed out about the kids. It'll almost be like a date because my mom and Jamie are going to watch the kids for us tonight. Who's wants to make a bet about how long it will take me to publicly embarrass Zach?

I had to fill out a sheet to bring tonight, on our agenda for dog training: Overly submissive & a general inability to understand or be understood by other members of the household. Sound good enough for the World Leader of Dog Training?

We should have named her "Other Calamity"

We were out of town for the weekend so the girls, the canine ones, spent a few days with my mom and Jamie. On Sunday morning they (the humans) left for church and my mother recalls leaving the outgoing mail neatly stacked on the center of the dining room table. She specifically remembers doing this because she didn't want to leave anything too near the edge, lest Mango get to it.

When they got back from church a few hours later, there was much evidence of tampering in the form of scratch marks on the table and papers scattered all about the floor. Clearly Mango had gotten right up on the table. When my mom was putting everything back into place, she found a small piece of an envelope, leftovers of Mango's feast we'll call it. By process of elimination, I believe, she was able to establish that the piece of mail which had been eaten was their tax returns. Thankfully she'd not eaten the entire thing, otherwise they might never have realized the taxes didn't go out in the next day's mail.

My mom was telling me this on Sunday night and she said that she'd have to call the next morning to request a new form. I was cracking up on the phone when she was telling me this and asked if she was going to tell them why she needed a new form. "Yes, I plan to," she informed me. I said that I expect to one day come across a website dedicated to the reasons people have given for submitting late tax returns and see, I"m sorry Judge, the dog failed to tell me she ate my tax mailing for lunch." Just for kicks I looked it up to see if such a thing exists. This link is the closest I could come up with and I wondering if "My dog ate my tax return" would fall under the third bullet where it reads, "Destruction...by flood, fire or other calamity."

As they were dropping the dogs off tonight, Jamie requested that I check Mango's poop for check number 3219. But believe me, that's not too far off from what our daily reality is with these dogs...

A week at Camp

When my mom was growing up they used to spend the entire summer up at Camp. Things were simpler then. I've never gotten to do that, much less spend an entire week there. This past week Jacob, Sabine, my mom and I did spend a week there. Late on day 5 we were joined by my sister, Marisa and Zach.

We left for Camp on Sunday evening during thunder storms. Sabine got her first ride in the van as we were taking the dogs too and needed the extra room. We had to install the carseat first and boy getting that base in perfect was a pain in the ass. The kids slept most of the way so we the trip went by fast.

Monday we did the usual stuff (picked blueberries, played with the Camp toys, went for a walk) and then went out to the island in the row boat. We took Mango to play around on the sand bar. This was Sabine's first boat ride. On Tuesday, in addition to the usual stuff, we went for a long walk on the old railroad bed. For this I put Sabine in the running stroller we keep up there. That was her first ride in a stroller. Wednesday, Thursday and Friday brought more firsts for her, as well as rain on and off ever day we were there. Each day it poured rain, then got sunny and hot before raining again, only to clear up again and maybe repeat the whole cycle one or two more times before the day was over.

Friday evening is when we were joined by the rest of the crowd. Zach and I decided to keep it a surprise for Jacob that he was coming up for the weekend because otherwise Jakie would have wasted the weekdays waiting for the weekend to come. I think Jacob was in shock when they all got there but soon after he and Marisa set to playing. My sister brought her little yippy dog, Benny, so Ginger and Mango had plenty of excitement meeting their new 'cousin'.

We left to come home yesterday but had to wait around for the rain to slow enough so we could load the car with all our stuff and then get everyone in. The ride home was a pain in the ass. We had to stop a lot for the baby and Jacob freaked out the last hour of the ride. The whole second half of the ride home he asked once a minute how long it would be until we got home. An hour from home he couldn't take it anymore and went berserk. Then 20 minutes before we got home he started sobbing and the only thing that would calm him down was giving him my cell phone to mess around with.

When we finally got home Jacob jumped out as fast as he could and ran screeching to the back yard. He wanted to see the deck that Zach had been telling us about, that's why he had so much trouble on the long ride. But what gives, he used to be so peaceful in the car. So the deck is half done and looks pretty cool. Also, a huge bonus surprise, Zach installed the window that needed replacing which I've been begging him to do for over a year.

Anyway, we're back and today was a crazy introduction back into the real world. Hopefully I'll have pictures tomorrow...

Photogenic

'fess up, please

We just got home (from a place I will write about later) and as we pulled into the driveway I spotted two small packages on the front steps. "What the frig is that?" I questioned. I kind of just sat there freaked out for a minute while I let the known possibilities run through my head. Zach couldn't come up with anything either so he got out to investigate. I told him I was going to stay right there in the car where I could conveniently lock the doors when the psycho killer came around the side of the house.

It was two log/rolls of dog training reward stuff. OK, I'm not explaining it well: Picture a big log of sausage wrapped and sealed up on both ends, you know like the Hickory Farms kind they sell at Christmas? They were like that, but they're called Pet Botanics: Snack Treat Training Rewards. And just the way they were placed, so intentional, each one on a separate step placed a good distance apart like a lovely little display is kind of freaky. Um...there are a lot of people who know that Ginger was undergoing physical therapy for which they use treats as rewards but most of them wouldn't give a crap enough to leave a little present by the door like that, and the ones who would care were all at the same party we were at or otherwise accounted for during the few hours we were gone.

So either I have a stalker, or the people at the vet's office really do like us enough to come on by the house and bring a little present for Ginger in celebration of her completing her physical therapy last week. Seriously though, they've given us big heads there. They take such good care of us, everyone knows us there, and they are always saying that Ginger is their favorite dog. It would be easy enough for them to get our address and we don't live that far away.

Anyway, if the person responsible is reading this, yeah, go ahead and tell me about it because I think I might have a little trouble sleeping tonight.

We're those people now...

This post is from back in the fall when I was in my first trimester and started posts only to get too tired to finish them. I hate having drafts in my folder so I'm trying to weed them all out by either posting them or deleting them. Not that it's even relevant anymore but my post about Ginger the other day got me thinking about this one. I think this was supposed to go in with the post about Mango opening the trash cans...
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Mango usually directs her assaults at me and Jacob, so that's why I was surprised this morning when I heard Zach's exclamations as he was walking down the stairs, headed for the kitchen. I thought maybe she was chewing his hat, or maybe a paint brush, he was so mad. But she swallowed whole the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back. It was a sandwich. The sandwich he had just made for himself to take to the paint job he was on the way out the door to. Mango had jumped up to the counter and snatched it. I generally tend to apply a great many psychological implications to the things she decides to chew, so my head is really spinning as to why she would chew/eat something of Zach's. But then again, I also like to think of Mango as an opportunist, albeit not a smart one, but in this case I need to remind myself that sometimes, to a dog, a sandwich really is just a sandwich.

The sandwich incident is merely another offense to add to the list in a long line of misdeeds and crude behavior she's been exhibiting recently. It's like Mango's experiencing a revival of her puppyhood. She's been so obnoxious lately, what with jumping all over people at the front door and barking at every little sound. There is the trash can opening that I wrote about before. And a recent obsession with the squirrel who frequents our yard. Mango stands at the sliding glass door that opens into the backyard all day long just waiting for the little visitor. Then when she sees the squirrel she goes berserk, racing all around the house and barking, looking for a human to let her outside. She never catches the darn thing, but we love to stand there at the door, almost opening it, egging her on to go get it. Then we open the door to unleash the beast and she goes flying across the yard faster than I thought was possible of her.

So anyway, we're those people now. The ones with the crazy dog who is out of control and has to be put away when the guests come.

Playtime

Things have been pretty good and light around here lately. I can feel spring coming and I swear to God if it doesn't make good this month I'm going to go find it and kick its ass back into town. We all played a bit over the weekend because Zach wasn't working 12 hours a day for a change, and like usual, I was procrastinating about writing another paper for my class. The light was nice so I got out my camera and put on the macro lens for some of the pictures. I think I'm getting the hang of it? Jacob took one of these pictures, you can probably tell which one.

So this is what Zach and Jacob do - they wrestle and rough-house. They get crazy and so does Mango, you can see parts of her in a couple of the pictures. This is what it's like when Zach gets home from work at the end of the day. Both of them, Jacob and Mango, just attack him. They try to get as close as they can and push each other out of the way competing for his attention. I can only imagine what it will be like when we have another human child in the house!

Freaky Friday

So the saga continues with dogs. Remember Ginger had her hip surgery last summer? She's still not 'back to normal' so-to-speak, but then again we don't know what normal is for her. She still mostly limps is what I mean. It was supposed to be about 6-8 weeks before she was fully recovered from the surgery and using her leg. Instead of her hip situation getting better she took on a completely different personality 6-8 weeks after the surgery. She was acting like a puppy, full of new life and energy, which, naturally we took as a good sign. She'd have an occasional flare-up where she was in extreme pain in the hip area for a few days.

Then a couple months ago she stepped up the puppy behavior to a whole new annoying level. And the weirdest behavior is that she chews things now, like inappropriate things (Jacob's toys).
Ginger does this pounding/dancing thing with her front paws on the floor when she is excited. I don't know what that's all about, but it's really annoying. She barks now (which she never did), jumps all over people at the front door, constantly whines in the middle of the night, etc. Mango is quickly becoming the favored dog.

Today I walked into the living room where Jacob's beloved United States puzzle lay scattered across the floor. And there was Ginger sitting off to the side chewing Idaho! I don't know what it is with this puzzle that gets her but she's already chewed Maine, the piece that comprises Vermont and New Hampshire, as well as Ohio. Then suddenly, as I spoke the words "I would haven expected that out of Mango, but not you" aloud, I realized what has happened. They have switched bodies.

So anyway, Ginger recently had another flare-up and then an x-ray at the vet's. They have determined that she is an excellent candidate for physical therapy and so next week (after my class is over) I will begin bringing her there for physical therapy three times a week. And all I can say is thank God we just got our tax money back because that does not come without a price tag.

The good thing about having TWO dogs...

...there's always another one to eat the puke the first one just threw up.

Zach just ran into the kitchen gagging and warned me about what's happening on the nice carpet in the living room. Apparently Ginger couldn't stomach her dinner tonight and spewed it all over. I can just hear Mango's reaction if she could talk. "Alright! Score on the double-dinner tonight!" It must have been the highlight of her day.

Zach won't let Mango near him now...he's all, get away from me you nasty dog.

"I'd just like to see you let her lick your face now" I replied.

What people do when they don't have cable

Zach had a pork roast the other day and we saved the bone to give to the dogs. Today seemed like a good day to do it, so we tossed it out in the backyard and they went to town. Poor Ginger didn't stand a chance because it only took a second for Mango to swoop in and steal it. Ginger gave up the fight in favor of the warm house in no time flat so after a bit I had Zach intervene. He took the bone away from Mango and we coaxed Ginger back outside. She took it and ran to the other side of the yard and Mango ran after her. So we were out of earshot by then but the body language was clear. The hair along Ginger's spine was standing up and she was giving Mango the look that she does when she's growling. Mango kept inching over and it was pretty funny to watch. I know it doesn't sound funny, but the fact that all three of us were hanging out at the sliding door laughing our butts off and doing little voice to imitate the dogs is the point.

Mango tried to bring the bone into the house so Zach tossed it in the yard somewhere. We left the house for a couple hours and when we came back the dogs were itching to get out and get at the bone. Actually, Ginger was at the door waiting to go out, which is unusual because she hates the cold and snow (by now it was snowing and the bone had gotten covered a little). I think Mango had forgotten about the bone because she's the dumb one. So Ginger went outside and Mango quickly followed. They both ran to different spots of the yard where the bone had previously been, and then ran all over the place searching for it and digging little holes in the snow. Ginger gave up after a couple minutes but sad little Mango kept at it for so long. We were just inside laughing it up again at her expense. I don't think she ever found it but we finally felt bad enough to call her in. They'll find it eventually when the snow melts.

I guess it was one of those you had to be there kinds of moments because reading this over, it doesn't really sound that funny. But it was for us because of the five channels we have to choose from there was nothing as entertaining as what was going on in the back yard.

Maybe not as dumb as we think...

When we adopted the dogs I had to upgrade all our trash cans to these ones with tops on them because you-know-who would get into them and eat all the garbage within. As long as they have their tops on, we've been good to go in that department. Unfortunately for those of us in the house who do the picking up (me) it is cold season and there is nothing Mango loves more than to snack on dirty Kleenex's. I'm serious, if there was a juicy bone laying on the floor alongside of the snot-filled Kleenex, Mango will go for the snot rag (I've never actually tested this).

Anyway, I guess the fact that the garbage is filled with all kinds of 'wintry goodies' has made Mango extra motivated to get into the cans. I don't know how she does it, but at least once a day, per garbage can, I walk into the room and the contents are spewed all over the floor. The top to trash can 'exhibit A' will be laying by the side of the can. The one labeled 'exhibit B' of course closes by itself. I have never caught Mango breaking in like this but I'm guessing she probably pokes her head in through the hole, gets it stuck, pulls away from the can and the top goes with her head. She most likely then shakes off the lid and she's all set to go to town on the contents.

With the one whose lid lifts, I'm pretty sure that she uses her damn food to just open the thing like it was intended for a human to do. I'm almost positive about this because while I've never seen her do it, if I am near enough I can hear the lid lifting and I rush into the bathroom to catch the culprit red-pawed and slowly backing away from the garbage.

Exhibit A

Exhibit B

The Here and Now

I just went upstairs to get something and saw Jacob sitting up in bed, asleep. How can I not love this life when each day the two boys I share it with provide me with many, many opportunities to laugh at them? Come to think of it, most of the funny stuff happens during the sleeping hours. Man, I would be missing some serious comedy if I wasn't a chronic insomniac.

Sunday we forced ourselves out of the house and took a little hike/walk (I guess one's level of fitness would determine the hike-to-walk ratio) with the dogs on a nature trail that runs through the woods behind the college. After that we brought the dogs into the college and headed to the weight room to work out. Something funny must have happened then because I remember noting to myself that I wanted to write about it. But now it's simply morphed into a boring account of 'how we spent our weekend'. Blah.

Monday we went to story hour at the library where we made a craft.
Tuesday we went to a playgroup where we made a craft.
Wednesday we went to the children's museum for a new class my mom signed us up for. We made a craft. Jacob finally likes making crafts, but I never complained when he didn't because I have trouble deciding what to do with crafts that Jacob makes, aka, 'masterpieces'. I can't just throw them out, but I can't keep them all forever. My two methods for getting rid of them are giving them away to grandparents and 'forgetting' to pick them up when they fall on the floor, where Mango will find them and eat them.

Mango is something else altogether lately. All day long she sits by the back door just staring out into the backyard. Eventually she'll see The Squirrel and go nuts. If Zach lets her out he'll say, "Go get 'em, Mango! Catch that squirrel!" And if I let her out, I call out a warning to the squirrel first and then as Mango is chasing it, I yell for the squirrel to run. That squirrel runs so fast up the tree, Mango doesn't even have a chance. In the past few days though, she barks to go out at odd times when I don't even see any rodents. I'll open the door and she goes tearing out in the direction of the tree that is the safe haven of all tree-climbing animals but there's nothing racing up it. I think she's depressed about never catching it and has started to play a game in her head where she actually walks away with the prize in hand - or clenched in her jaw.

Also this week Zach is getting over a really bad case of the flu. I was really scared I was going to get it because he had the same thing last year and then I got it. And I wasn't particularly sympathetic to Zach this time around because I was just coming off of my own illness and no one took care of me then.

Anyway, everytime Zach coughs, Jacob looks at him in horror and prepares to run away. This is because last week when Zach was first getting sick, he had come home from work early because he puked in the bathroom. At the dinner table that night I told Jacob Daddy had thrown up at work. Jacob just thought this was the funniest thing, and I thought it was funny too because I was picturing the bathroom closest to his new office (which is now in a building where they have classes) and the vent in the bottom of the door, wondering if the students walking by could actually hear him puking the bathroom. We laughed a little bit too long to be really sympathetic, and now Jacob just keeps waiting for him to puke again. "Are you gonna frow up?!" he asks. I think he wants to see Zach puke. I kind of want Zach to toss his cookies just to see Jacob's reaction - even though that means I'll have to clean it up.

Which brings me to the highlight of today: I clipped the rabbits' nails, and while I was doing that, I noticed that Nutmeg needed his 'glands' cleaned out. So I did that too. And if you don't know what that means, believe me, you're better off.

Oh no, I missed it

I was going to write a blog on the 15th and it was going to be something like "Happy Birthday, Baby" because that day was the one year mark from when I first became a blogger. Oh well, it's been a long year, a big year, a mostly good year. But I've been too busy in the last few days doing things like waiting for the roof to be done, trying to catch the fruit flies with creative devices, and cleaning up dog puke three times in four days - all on the new carpet, by the way. And this last time I discovered it by stepping barefoot in it.

Well, I'll leave you with that mental image to ponder...

The Creatures of This House, Part II

We had a rough weekend with Ginger. She was in a lot of pain on Saturday night - crying, whining, making odd noises, she couldn't get settled and wouldn't put her recovering leg down, or let you near it. We've been very careful about keeping Mango calm around Ginger so I knew nothing happened while we were around. The only thing I can figure was that it happened when I'd left the house earlier and shut the dogs off in a small room, taking the bed out so Mango couldn't tear it apart. So my guess is that maybe not having anything to piece apart, she took her aggression out on her Ginger, who of course wouldn't be able to get away. Now I have to put up two different make-shift barriers when we leave so the dogs will be separated.

I gave Ginger a dose of pain meds and waited an hour. Still in pain. I gave her another half does, tried to make her comfortable with heat and some of my alternative therapy modalities, then waited another hour. Still in pain. I called the emergency clinic and asked them a couple questions. It would be $150 if we brought her in, visit and injection combined. The woman didn't seem that concerned and we really can't afford that right now so after getting a positive response about giving more meds, I gave Ginger one more half dose. An hour later she appeared to finally be asleep. Sunday she just laid on the bed all day, only getting up twice to pee and still not using her leg. So today she went into our vet's office because I'd left a message there on Saturday night and they wanted to see her. We got the answer that we'd been expecting - that she must have just torn some of the muscle fibers, etc, etc, and it's pretty much normal, then she got a vaccine. $100 (insert flush noise).

I guess I should say 'Creature & Cars' because our vehicles have been giving us unexpected troubles also. Last night Zach called me to say he was leaving the place where he's painting and would be home in five minutes. He called back two minutes later asking me to come get him. I did and he tried to jump the van. We left. He got up at seven this morning to call AAA. They met him there and also had no luck jumping it. They towed it 1/8 of a mile down the road where the mechanic we go to just happens to be located. It got a new battery today. $100. The van is only three years old. It was also in the shop three weeks ago for a new valve of some kind. Before that, the civic was in the shop, and before that the van was in the shop a day prior to leaving for our cross-country trip. That four car repairs in less than four months. What the hell?

Anyway, enough complaining. Zach had to move his office last week to a new building on campus. This new office is twice the size, which means he has twice as much room for things. Things that can be taken out of my cluttered house and moved into his office. A very large, framed picture that was given to Zach a couple years ago has never had a place in our home because we don't have a wall big enough to hold it. There's a big fat wall for it in his new office. He told me he'd take it, along with the mini-fridge of mine from college that is also taking up space in the basement. That night while Zach was gone painting, I took Jacob downstairs (a huge undertaking on its own) and set to cleaning up the basement. I was also doing this in preparation for the delivery of our new washer and dryer that we had to buy because the old ones lived out their lives ($$$) - and don't forget about the waterbed that broke last month ($$$).

I was so motivated because I couldn't wait to get those two huge things out of the little basement. Well...it took a good twenty minutes to move all the crap out of the way in Zach's workshop to get to the picture. The glass was broken, badly. Great. On to the fridge. I got a picture of that one though. I will let it speak for itself.









Effing bunnies.

I got right on the glass thing and had a new piece cut the next day, but the thing is still sitting in my entry way because the van battery died and we didn't have another vehicle big enough to carry it to the college. The fridge is still in the middle of my kitchen floor.

Then there's Jacob, who has been an angel for a couple weeks. I think he's decided that he's ready for a new phase and is gradually introducing "I want to wig out" phase or something. Other than just being plain crazy at times, he's doing the thing where he starts to pee and then looks around at stuff. You know what happens then. The night in the basement, he took the bunnies water bottles off of their cages and emptied them out over the bunnies heads. What's up with that? It's sooo last year (as in a two year old thing to do). Whenever I stop giving Jacob attention, he likes to walk over to my computer and turn it off so that I lose whatever it is I was working on. It's those little passive-aggressive things that kill me. Hope this one doesn't last long...

What is it lately with the creatures of this house?

Finally, Zach has seeded the back yard. He backed filled it with the dirt they dug out for the new basement, raked out the rocks, tilled it, covered it with topsoil from a local farm, seeded it and covered it with straw. Now the Waiting begins. The Waiting involves keeping the dogs and the children out of the backyard. This is easier said than done.

Actually, the children, or the Child, factor is not really a big deal. I just keep Jacob busy during the day, and when Zach is home and working on the backyard, Jacob is too. There's never a time when Jacob would turn down digging in the yard with Daddy for something else. And that's basically all he does - digs in the dirt for hours on end.

The dogs, however, are another story. Holy Hell do they ever miss their backyard. We didn't realize how much they love it until now that they can't go in it. Can you imagine the damage those two would cause with all the rumbling they do? So we're walking them like normal pet people. What a novel concept. When we're not walking them, they are sitting by the back door, looking out the glass, giving me that melancholy look. And when we're not home to see them being depressed over the temporary loss of their playground, they are tearing apart the house in revenge. Well, I assume it's Mango, and Mango alone who is taking out her wrath on the items of the house. I will now back up this statement with my current theory of Mango's destruction.

We got a new area rug for the new living room and put it down shortly after getting home from our trip. This is a nice rug (not the one in the picture below), the nicest one we've ever had and the dogs wholy agree! More recently I purchased a new dog bed to place near the new carpet to discourage the dogs from laying on the carpet, as they are wont to do. Somehow the bed ended up in our bedroom, at the foot of our bed, and Mango has taken to sleeping on it at night. So now instead of just having one dog bed to share, the dogs have assigned themselves ownership over the respective beds. Mango has surrendered the old dog bed to Ginger, but probably only because the new one is fluffier. So when I leave the house we block the dogs off in a strange way with random barriers to keep them contained. The bed goes in this spot, along with the many toys Mango has for the purpose of tearing apart. Instead of the toys though, she chews apart the bed. I haven't yet fully thought through what her sadistic reasoning could be behind chewing apart Ginger's bed, and not directing the assault at me, but I'm working on that. Perhaps she trying to dominate her mother and show who's the leader of the pack. Either that or she's just really, really pissed about losing her backyard.

Then there's the walking. I'm trying to walk them four times a day and no matter how often, or how long those walks are, when it's over the dogs are just at your feet again acting like their lives suck. Sometimes I walk one dog at a time because it's a very big undertaking to walk them both at the same time (and manage Jacob on whatever kind of wheeled toy he is trying to ride through the bumpy wooded area). The times when I walk them both at once it's usually because I can't decide who to take first. Ginger makes it clear by her uncharacteristically wild behavior at the front door that Going For a Walk is her sole pleasure in life and to leave her behind might crush her poor, dear heart. But if I leave Mango behind in favor of walking Ginger first, there will always be repercussions.

Actually walking them is a whole other matter. Ginger likes to dilly dally and sniff everything, while her daughter prefers to go as fast as possible, her attention always shifting between this and that. She's like the dog version of ADHD. Mango also likes to be the leader so that if ever Jacob speeds in front of her, she barks her head off and tries to bound ahead. If only I could get them both to compromise, then we'd be at a nice brisk walking pace instead of my arms being pulled apart by their opposing desires. And with the leashes - what's up with this? Why can't they just walk normal and not get all tangled? It seems simple enough to me: One dog on each side, leashes hanging from their collars with a clear path to the loop over my wrist. But no, they have to always be under foot, tripping me, tangling each others' legs with their leashes, getting caught up in the bushes.

If people with pets are supposed to have lower blood pressure, then I must be an exception to the rule.