What I know so far (or “all dog all the time”)

<The flash reflected off her face strangely here and I’m a “picasa easy fixes only” kind of person, not a perfessional. Her face is really almost all caramel brown and doesn’t look like a mask, as it does here. See next photo or wait for the next blog entry with 4 dozen more.>

I’ve always wondered what Girl might have been like as a puppy, and with Fanny I thought I might find out. And I have.

Now if you have kids I’ve probably listened to you talk about everything from their poopy color and consistency to little Muffin being so advanced for his/her age, so please indulge me while I discuss what I’ve learned in the past couple of weeks.

• Puppies have lots of energy. Tons of energy. So much energy I sometimes want to cry. Seriously considered another dog but am now sober resorting planning on seriously considering doggy day care 1 day/week. It costs more than a Pilates session (not that I do that, but now I for sure can’t). It’s still cheaper than another dog.
• ‘Mature in body’ does not equal ‘maturity in mind.’ Please note that I knew this before I got Fanny. How many times did I wittily remark that “in some ways they are always puppies.” How little did I realize what I was saying. Love IS blind.
• I have laughed more in the past 3 weeks than in the previous 3 months.
• When she (maybe all dogs that dig?) digs holes she furiously digs, then stops and listens for (something) literally with ear to the ground in the hole, then keeps digging until either distracted or yelled at? Literally – ear to the ground.
• Fanny saw a dog on tv. It ran off screen. Fanny ran around for the next couple of minutes trying to find the dog. She looked and barked at behind the tv, sniffed and barked at the front door, opened the shutters in the big front window and barked, went out to the back yard and barked. There was a lot of barking involved. Girl never barked except to yowl at a rabbit.
• I’ve left the (so far) most humiliating for last: I’ve adopted a horndog. My neighbor was over the other night and just loved Fanny. Fanny loved her too. So much so that Fanny mounted her leg a few times. I just did not know what to do. Neighbor has raised several dogs so I let her decide. She sat there for a good 30 seconds, acting like Meg Ryan in the infamous “I’ll have what she’s having” diner scene in Sleepless in Seattle. She then asked Fanny if it was good for her.  I swear this is true.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t a one-time deal and now my back and my leg have been her latest, uh, conquests. She is fixed so I really don’t have a clue what’s going on here. I swear I know more about raising children than I do this little puppy, and I confess I called her ‘Little Satan’ yesterday.

It’s quite vexing actually.

 

What the dog taught me…

She sometimes kept her nose down to the ground and didn’t look up to see that the rabbit she was looking for was right in front of her. Lesson: Don’t be so focused that you can’t see what’s right in front of you.

She also never gave up hoping things would change, recur or that she could get away with them for once. She never gave up…

• trying to eat cat poop
• thinking there must be more BBQ goodness under that pit despite having just licked every crevice for the last 20 minutes (see photo above for a post-bbq lickfest picture —- grease-a-rama!)
• thinking she’d get another rabbit from under the same bush she found one 5 years ago
• thinking I’d really give her <insert name of food here> off my plate
• trying to fit under the couch.

Lesson: Do not see obstacles. Do not think of the past too much. Never give up hope. Ever.

 

One dog CAN make a difference…

Lots going on, not too much “good” or clever to say, but this should describe one of the many “current events” in my life:

Dear Robyn, Bill, Janice, Jo, and everyone at SDI,

I’ve been postponing this long enough (one thing Girl has taught me is to ‘hope despite all evidence to the contrary’), but I am finally submitting Girl’s and my formal retirement from TOUCH.

Although we were never as active in TOUCH as I’d hoped we’d be (first her back, then her OD on doggy Advil, now her imminent death), SDI and the TOUCH trainers made such an impact on me, especially in teaching me to work with with Girl.

Remember: Girl was a puppy mill breeding dog and had never even been on-leash until I got her. Plus, I was a first-time dog person. Your unending patience with me during training enabled me to bring out the best in Girl when we did our visits.

All the “pain” we (I) went through during the training was totally worth it on our very first facility visit. She was lifted (with permission and a cover to sit on) to a patient’s bed and immediately rolled onto her back for him to pet her tummy, which the patient just loved. After a long while I hinted about moving on to the next visit and I was told that I could go, but the dog had to stay!

That immediately made all the efforts and frustration and sheer work totally worth it.

While doing TOUCH, I also never expected to see a tangible, obvious, and direct benefit to a patient (other than a fleeting pleasure), but Girl helped one person in particular more than I could’ve guessed:

As you know, we visit facilities and do not know (or ask) why a person is there. I know we visited brain injury patients in lock-down wards, people recovering from various surgeries or neurological problems, but that was really the extent of it. You don’t know the purpose of the patient’s stay, you just know why you are there.

One night (at the StL Rehab. Institute) we walked into a room and I greeted an older woman who was sitting upright at the edge of her bed, wearing her own bed clothes, and seemingly “fine.” We started chatting informally while she pet Girl.

Before we left the room the rehab. therapist who accompanied us said something like “Ms. X, do you realize that while you’ve been petting Girl you’ve been speaking in complete sentences? You’ve been saying random words and couldn’t construct a sentence, but when you pet the dog you speak in sentences. We’ll get a dog in here tomorrow to aid you with your therapy.”

Unbeknownst to me (I never found out the exact problem), the woman had incurred some injury that caused her to be unable to put the right words together to form sentences. She was only able to speak random, non-sensical words – gibberish really, until she started petting the dog.

I’ve never experienced anything like it. It was literally a life-changing moment (for her and for me!) and I realized, yet again, that volunteering gives the volunteer as much as the person they are “helping.”

So as Girl nears the end of her life, I resign with the knowledge that although our work was short-lived, she made a difference to many people for a few minutes, and a few people for many minutes. I will continue to support TOUCH any way I can and look forward to someday returning as a TOUCH team volunteer.

With my deepest gratitude and appreciation,
Marie (still pronounced “mary”)

 

I swear this happened.

My dog jumped into the sewer the other day.

Seriously.

She was running through the snow at the park and stopped to sniff intently at the mouth of the sewer.

She’s gotten close to the edge of it innumerable times but never in it for godsake. This time she was really close to the edge. Again. All my threatening, menacing “Don’t you dare”s went on (literally) deaf ears.

Then somehow – before I knew what was happening – she was in it.

I actually laughed for a moment because it was – well – funny. And then I wished I had my camera.

She landed just a foot or 2 down on a bunch of leaves, and was sufficiently unconcerned enough to keep sniffing for what she wanted (thus my conclusion that she jumped and didn’t fall).

At first I was willing to wait her out. I thought “You got yourself in. Now you get yourself out.”  I’ve waited her out before.

The problem was that I didn’t know how deep the leaves were, if they could give way under her weight or what. Plus, what dog has ever responded to “You got yourself in. Now you get yourself out”???

Really, I wouldn’t have cared if I knew the status of the leaves. In the summer you can see a lot further down into the tunnel, so it would’ve been bad if it were summer, but what about now?

Was it just this layer of leaves on top of water? Was it just a big pile of leaves all the way to the bottom?  If she started dropping just how far down was that vertical tunnel?

I envisioned having to call the sewer company to get her out, much as I had envisioned calling the fire department a few years ago when she got her head stuck between two bars of an iron fence. (Hence the “You got yourself in…” philosophy.)

But after wondering about the whole leaves vs. water thing I kind of panicked and wondered how the hell to get her out of there.

Not surprisingly, a few people were looking at me leaning into the sewer so I waved, and soon there were 4 sets of hands and another set of paws over to reach in and grab her by her collar, so her neck hurt later, but guess it’s better than falling all the way to the middle earth.

What a DORK of a dog.

As a follow up, she showed absolutely no interest in the sewer today.

 

A week’s worth of posts

…Without the aid of pharmaceuticals, illicit drugs or alcohol I went to bed at 9:30 Fri. night and slept until 11:30 Saturday morning, with just a little time “in the conscious world” to feed, medicate, and let my dog and neighbor dog out. I was tie-tie.

…My fiber intake has decreased over last couple of weeks. Since I’ve previously discussed my increases (example here) I thought you should know the current state of affairs. Don’t worry, it hasn’t caused any – uh – problems yet and I promise I’m not going to provide daily poop updates.

…I’m breaking a big rule that you don’t talk about looking for a job, but “marie/y hungry” is not a pretty picture, and I’m getting a little frantic. You may know that I work (thru a contracting co.) at the Everywhere Company, which recently “combined with” the Many Other Places Company to become the Holy Crap It’s a Huge Mega Company.

Long story short, they’re in cost-cutting mode, and my job is one of the costs they’re cutting (performance, results, team builder, “plays well with others,” customer satisfaction all aside). I saw the writing on the wall this summer (here) and have been looking since July. Have gotten some great interviews and 2nd interviews but no offer yet.

I have a new so-far-so-good pimp staffing firm now (another drama I’ll skip), and want to stay with them as long as I’m in <The City I Don’t Hate But Don’t Love>. I’m loyal to a fault (and I mean literally to a fault, as this loyalty has bitten me several times) but I have 5 weeks before I go on unemployment for the 1st time in my 30 year working life.

I don’t want to hurt anyone, burn any bridges, hack anyone off or be rude, butcha know I gotta eat. I really want my new staffing co. to come through for me, but I’d be stupid to put my whole stomach in one party’s hands. (Can you tell I’m talking myself into this as much as explaining it to you?) Again: “marie/y hungry” is not pretty. Plus it’s such a great time of year to be looking for a job…

So: if you point me in the direction that leads me to a new job in the same field and it pays close to or more than what I earn now, besides knowing you’ll get big time karma points, the prize I can offer for this contest (Omar: this IS a contest. Let me know and I’ll send you my LinkedIn URL) is that whoever helps me get some more interviews will be eliminated from the “I will house Marie/y and her 3 animals if necessary” list.

Need I say that that is worth more than any superficial prize? Yes? Well okay if you live nearby or I’m coming to visit you I’ll take you to dinner at a nice restaurant too, okay?

…product I wish I’d thought of: the Stayball. It’s a ball (obvously) that you can (among other things) use as a chair. Get it? It STAYBALLizes you. It’s a bonus that the sand in it prevents it from rolling around when you’re not sitting on it. No more tripping over the “it’s coming after me” ball after I step away from it.

…”living the dream”: Here are photos from May (selecting just “the right” already-gnawed on bone)

and the other day when I decided to finally throw them out but then decided they’d make a good picture:

In the intervening time I’ve thrown away countless (really – countless) other bones and given a big bag of the long ones to my sister to stuff (for her dog) but I’ve also switched to the small bones (trying to save $$) and my dog has now lost 3 lbs!

People might think I’m weird but I prefer to think of myself as “different,” someone who “thinks outside the box” and isn’t constrained (too much) by societal norms. Okay, re-reading this I’ll just admit what the neighbors and my friends/fam already know: I am weird albeit in a fun, lovable way.

…Compliment of the week: My physical therapist said I have excellent body mechanics. That means I bend well and properly (although obviously not well enough or I wouldn’t be seeing her).

…Today’s Words of Wisdom: Don’t buy a bag of baked BBQ Baked Lays without just admitting right off that you will eat the whole thing in one sitting. You’re just kidding yourself otherwise.

 

Housekeeping hint

I don’t have these revelations too often (the last one) but here’s my latest helpful household hint:

For less mess (things knocked over, biological accidents, hair tumbleweeds), less work (chasing, yelling, cleaning litter boxes) and most important to the discussion at hand: to reduce the need to clean (be it vacuuming or cleaning up biological accidents that the dog doesn’t eat) simply get rid of all your animals.

Not that I practice what I preach mind you, but I am sorely tempted.

But do let me know if you’re interested in Li’l Effer, Allie the co-dependent kitty, or Girl the beagle (for whom I’m willing to forge adoption papers so you can take tax and/or medical expense deductions).

I know I’ve made them all sound so appealing over the years so I don’t really expect any takers but at least you have a new housekeeping hint to implement.

You’re welcome.

 

Who’s got time to write?!

I’ve been a slacker with my blogging, I know. I’m sorry.

I think of things to write about all the time but there’s a lot going on right now and I am trying hard (and succeeding!) to get at least 8 hours of sleep too.

Here are some highlights:

***watering the garden: OK, are you done guffawing? I know it shouldn’t be a big deal, but it takes 2 hours (at least) when you’re anal and have a lot to water and have uneven water pressure. The neighbors sometimes don’t even have to water their garden but uneven water pressure also means I’ve unknowingly just spent the last 15 min. with the sprinkler watering my bricks.

It’s time-consuming! TG for those recent hurricane remnants of rain. I just can’t take 2 hours to water the damn garden twice a week (and that doesn’t include special waterings for the recent transplants – see below).

***walking the dog: I have had to actually walk my own dog every single day for the past few weeks because my normal save – my – butt – but – I – have -more – on – my – butt – as – a – result – of – not – walking – my – own – dog – enough dog walker broke his toe.

Clearly he wasn’t putting my needs ahead of his and didn’t believe me when I suggested that walking might help make him heal faster. So there’s at least an hour gone every day.

***On the other hand, if I hadn’t been out walking a few weeks ago past someone’s house and known they kept bees, I couldn’t have asked how to get the wasps out of the birdhouse. Turns out she knew who I was from the pool even though I had no idea who she was.

That was a bit embarrassing but come on? Who (besides me apparently) looks the same in wet in their swimming suit as they do on dry land?! Anyway, if I hadn’t been walking my very own dog I wouldn’t have had her send her husband (the beekeeper) over.

***socializing with the neighbors: it’s been so nice out that all the peeps have been outside. This often turns a walk around the block into a “hell yes I’ll have a drink to delay my walk catch up with you.”

***This will be its own post soon (depending on how you define “soon”), but Extreme Makeover Home Edition has been in MY humble burg, about 3 blocks away. Since god forbid I should walk without the dog and you can’t bring dogs into their 3 block perimeter, I have only seen the actual site once (with the neighbor girls of course – see below).

But I have chatted with show security guards Fletch and Hulk Hogan look-alike-guy, and with the second female cop in our town (still waiting for a non-caucasian, but despite the diversity of the population, the administration is dragging behind a bit) and with a cop from the adjacent town (I knew he was from the adjacent town not just because of his different cop car, but also because he’s not caucasian. How sad is that.

I also talked to the nice cop who pulled me over and didn’t give me a ticket (versus the other 2 that did). So look back here soon’ish for the real scoop on how they do Extreme Makeover Home Edition. It’s pretty amazing really.

***Driving 15 miles (3 times) to dig up someone else’s garden (with their permission). Long story short, the garden had to be removed (which is akin to murder IMHO), so I went on 3 rescue missions. I would’ve gone on a 4th but they tore it up before I could get back.

I’d like to say I’ve also planted everything I got, but that’s not the case. Please don’t tell my mother that most of the plants I’m “temporarily planting” until her next bed is ready are still in the buckets 1 1/2 months after being dug up. Dear god it’s been all I can do to water, not to mention plant all this extra crap.

***The neighbor girls coming over: There’s an 7′ish year-old behind me and a 4 year-old next to HER, and they’re buddies. The 7 year-old, named Lydia (pictured in this post), has a “fort” in their yard. Whenever she (and her siblings before her) are bored or are just outside and I come out, she yells out (from the top of the fort where she’s been waiting to see me come out) “Hi Mawy Kafrine! What are you doooing?” which of course is quickly followed by “Can we come ovuh?”

So me being the sucker I am let her and/or Bella (the 4 year old) come over. Sometimes we “play” in the garden (they weed or dig a hole!), sometimes we have sherbet on the back porch, Bella has helped make pesto, and we all 3 walked over (with the dog) to deliver a gooey-butter cake to the security staff, since you can’t come to this city and NOT have one. It’s the only city that even has them.

Sometimes the girls come over and actually play, but when they look back later, they’ll realize how much free labor I got out of ‘em. Anyhoo, imagine going outside and having cute kids invite themselves over. I tell them no at least twice for every once, but they sure are outside a lot…

***J-o-b hunting: THAT’s the task that’s really eating up my time. Plus I have an added complication, which I’ll discuss at a future – but – soon date, but all those customized cover letters about why I would be such a great addition to your fabulous company are time-consuming.

I’ve been lucky and have made some headway (i.e.-interviews) but I don’t believe in waiting until you hear from one until you apply for the next one, so I’ve got a lot of irons in the fire. I started a spreadsheet, and even contemplated a database, but I’d rather use a chisel and stone spreadsheet than Access, so that’s how I’m doing it. Plus indeed.com, filters on my email and a folder on my hard drive. It’s simple, really.

***FINALLY finished reading the Secrets of the Sistine Chapel, (discussed here) which was fascinating, if a little tedious (maxed it out at 9 weeks checked out of the library). The authors present a compelling case that Michaelangelo’s work for the catholic church is actually a subversive eff-you that brings in the Talmud, Kabbalah, Midrash, and other non – church – sanctioned perspectives and symbolism that are illustrated in the chapel’s ceiling. fackinating.

***What I haven’t been doing: reading the Buddha book. My greatest failing this summer, besides not planting those plants yet. I maxed it out at 9 weeks, got a replacement from the other library for another 2 weeks, and then maxed out the city libarry copy again and still never got past page 59.

How am I supposed to learn more about calming and centering and philosophy and if I want to study this more, if I can’t even concentrate on a book about it?! Seems like a trick to me.

Well, if that’s my biggest failure this summer I think I can live with myself. I have a resin Lowe’s Buddha in the garden so that’s gotta count for something, right?

So bear with me while I sort through all these activities. OMG, I haven’t even posted the contest winner and my comments about the submissions, or the last 3 dead animals on the porch. Well, I also haven’t paid my bills for a couple of weeks now, so I’m betting that given a choice between the two, I will first post then pay. My priorities are in line…

 

Did I really just say that?!

I’m almost embarrassed (“almost” being the operative word here) to admit this but do you know what I just said to my dog (as I was carrying her away, and not caring about her comfort, from something she would not leave)?

I said, “Yeah, well, you should’ve thought of that before you did it.”

Seriously. I just can’t believe that came out of my mouth. To a dog…

Remarks like that just must be deeply deeply ingrained (engrained?) in a person so they can be blurted out before even realizing it’s a concept to think. I just have to hold onto the hope of it being deeply en/ingrained because otherwise it means I’m crazy.

,

,

Be quiet — I heard you think that.

<related post>

 

More ways to avoid doing what you “should” be doing

<Click here for previous insight on this topic>

-move branches of annuals that are in front of the tomato so the annuals are positioned juuuuust right to allow the proper amount of light through to the tomatoes (guaranteed time-killer if you do it right)

-move bird feeders around to encourage the goldfinches and hummingbirds to come over

-see if you have new tomatoes coming out (yes!)

-see if you have new squash coming out (no)

-look up why squash plant won’t produce

-look up why squash plant has powdery mildew

-take coffee grounds outside and carefully spread

-water plants, carefully re-positioning sprinkler every 10 minutes so that every single plant gets its proper amount of water

-consider how hot Charleston SC must be right now

-figure out how you could take your favorite perennials with you if you ever decide to move (and which ones you’d want to take) and how long they’d last if they traveled in a car vs. a moving van

-walk dog even though she doesn’t want to since it’s 450° outside

-swing on swing set at park and practice those vertigo exercises you’ve been meaning to try for 2 years

-untangle stupid dog who gets between your legs while you are swinging

-seriously consider vacuuming the house

-semi-seriously consider moving the 2 tons of mulch created in easement in front when trees were cut down

-write a blog post about all the ways you could avoid / can avoid / have avoided doing what you really need to do

-play on the ball you use as a chair to see if you can balance on it while laying/lying straight as a board

-keep typing about nothing so you don’t have to post the post and get back to doing what you really need to do but don’t want to really do

 

Another non-dream, unmet

I was a bit disappointed this afternoon.

<Background> If I’m around on Sat. afternoons I listen to Weekend America on NPR (of course). I at least have it on as background noise.

Last w/end there was a segment on “planned obsolescence.” It was about how things aren’t made to last because “they” need you to keep buying new things to keep “them” in business.

Or at least I think it was about that. I say that because the only thing I really remember was the commentator’s opening remark about how his vacuum cleaner needs repair but he doesn’t “feel like” getting it fixed, so he was going to take it to the <what’s the word for “environmentally responsible landfill?”> and get a new one.

It was his seg-way into the planned obsolesence story, which has I listened to it might have been good, but which I was too pi@@@ed off to concentrate on. His attitude wasn’t “well it’s 50 years old so it’s had a good life” or “it’d cost more to fix in than I could afford / want to spend” or “it’s so old it blows instead of suck.”

His attitude seemed more (to me, IMHO) to be “I’m too lazy to get it fixed but as long as i get rid of it responsibly I can go be a good little consumer and just buy a new one.”

I try not to preach my values (no really, I do try) unless asked or unless you just do something really bone-headed like say “I don’t feel like it.” That just stuck in my craw (obviously, since I don’t even remember the story).

I sent them a comment suggesting alternate ways to deal with it, like really being responsible and getting it fixed, that dumping it in the eco-landfill and buying a new one is the last option in the “reduce reuse recycle” flow, how he could get it fixed and donate it somewhere AND get a tax deduction (Hey-I ain’t stupid), etc.

And I made a point to mention how I use my former piece, Grandma N’s Eureka Princess (seen here)

as a back porch / basement vacuum cleaner now. It’s not the BEST sucker-upper, but it doesn’t have to be for those areas (and it beats sweeping) (background on the Eureka Princess).

Anyway, I got an email from a Weekend America producer saying they wanted to use my comments in a follow up segment on Sat. and when/how could they reach me.

(Sometimes they read comments on the air and sometimes the writer-inner reads them on the air, so the 1st thing I did after responding was begin my vocal exercises.)

But as the week wore on and I didn’t hear back from Millie, I realized they weren’t going to use it. Sure enough, I (deliberately) listened today and they had consulted an “expert” instead.

I guess they got more comments that people are (get this) “hard-wired to shop” (?!) so they decided on the dude with the doctorate instead of the dude-ette with the Art History degree. BTW, the PhD said that theory was bullkaka, which I could’ve told them and they’d have had a “two-fer” but whatever.

Anyway, it would have been fun but I’ve had plenty of media exposure, thank you, what with walking behind <insert name of childhood tv star who ended up on drugs but in the meantime was in the Toyota celebrity charity race that occurs before the Long Beach Grand Prix here> while Entertainment Tonight was interviewing him.

And then my niece, my dog and I were on a local tv show (a crowd shot, but they did a close up of Girl the beagle ’cause she’s so damn cute except last night when I got home and discovered her accident on the wood floor).

And another time I was in the paper with my friend Jane when we (left work early and) went to Ted Drewes. They took a photo of us and inserted with one of those “isn’t it great that spring is here” kind of captions.

And of course, I was mentioned in a nationally-read blog, blogher and icanhascheezburger (click here to view semi-related story)

So I mean, I’ve had my share of fame that I never even asked for. But this? This would’ve been national syndicated exposure. To what end I can’t say, since I’ve never craved national syndicated exposure, but it would’ve been fun.

sniff sniff Alas, it was not meant to be…I guess it will keep me humble until the next media opportunity comes along.

 

How do you know it’s time to put the dog “pool” out?

When, after a walk, your dog steps and gets all 4 paws into a 14″ diameter (circumference? radius? I flunked geometry) bird bath filled with skanky muddy water and tries to lay/lie in it…

6/1 Note to self: Next time, actually PUT the pool out. Today, she got all the way into the skanky water and SAT DOWN in it. Nice…

So I dump the water, move birdbath out of the way, and go get the *&^* pool.

I come back, pool in hand, and the stooopid dog is laying/lying down in the cool wet mud where the birdbath was just a moment ago…

Put the minimum required amount of water in the pool, but now the only ones interested in it are the cats, who need a drink of water. I should’ve just had kids.

 

Maybe I AM a mother after all…

As good as my animals have it, they are not my “children.” I did not have children for several reasons, none of which is relevant here.

However, the stuff that comes out of my mouth makes me wonder if I might as well have had children.

Here are some alarming examples of remarks I’ve made that sound eerily like a mother:

• For godsake, Allie you’re 14 years old, when are you going to stop chasing your tail? trying to suckle on my ear lobe? etc.
• Girl, if you don’t start listening we are going to turn around and go home right now. <I know, I couldn’t believe I said it either.>
• Dammit Girl quit following me around. I am not the freaking entertainment committee.
• <to Girl when she “doesn’t hear” me calling her> Don’t make me come get you. <That was especially alarming.>
• Move it Li’l F****er <Bubba>. (Side note: That’s not very maternal, and my mother never said it to me but that’s the beauty of an animal. You can call them names, and if you do it in a kind tone of voice it really doesn’t matter to them. And really they’re quite forgiving on those occasions when you DO lose it and yell. Actually, the cats don’t seem to care at all–just give them any attention and they’re good.)
• Girl, you can’t go outside with that. That’s an inside toy.
• Dammit, who left all these pawprints?! I just mopped the floor…<Anyone who sees my floor on a regular basis will verify that I couldn’t possibly say this one too often, since I seldom mop the floor.>
• No. No. No! NO! NO!
• Bubba! Quit chasing Allie — leave her alone!
• WHAT are you doing? <pauses and waits as though a response is imminent> Knock it off!!

On the other hand, I have to say things that “real” mothers hopefully probably never have to:

• Girl, leave the cat poop alone.
• Allie, get off the newspaper-I’m trying to read.
• Dammit Allie, get off the effing keyboard!!!!!!!!!! <followed by a lot of cursing, erasing, rebooting, etc.>
• Allie, get off the table <Hopefully you wouldn’t have to say much past 4 years old for humans but which you have to always say for cats. Clearly, Allie is the problem in most situations where movement occurs. Bubba doesn’t move — he roosts.>

I wish I had some clever way to end this. It’s basically a list I’ve been keeping for several months now. I just can’t believe some of the stuff that flies out of my mouth, that makes me sound like every mother since time began. It must get passed through the genes or something.

I kept this quote from the book, Dog Days, by Mark Doty, about the difference between dogs and children. I think it could apply to all pets really (itals. mine):

“We are not helping our dogs move toward independence, as we do with children — and as, of course, children long to do. The dog’s need for us is permanent. The great evolutionary success of their species lies in their ability to convince us of our need for them.”

5/17 Just added: “…and stay where I can see you”

 

It’s a tough life but someone’s gotta live it

 

How much is that doggie in the dishwasher?

My dog is so dirty when I say she’s in the dishwasher, I mean she’s IN the dishwasher…

The back story: My sister and I we were geeking out, playing with her new phone, when she turned around and saw my dog, standing there licking god only knows what.

The photo’s kind of grainy but you get the idea. As Grace said, Girl does provide endless entertainment value…

I’m just glad my dishwasher gets hot enough to sanitize the contents.

 

But I don’t LIVE in the woods!!

Although also a hawk, this is not what it looked like, but I can’t spend any more time looking for a picture of this damn bird.

Sittin’ here looking out the window on this gloomy day, when I see this big-a**ed bird preening itself high in a tree. It’s got a rust-colored belly, and being an adult – convert – bird – nerd (thank you Tom, though it was probably in my blood already due to my dad), I run and grab my bino’s and bird-nerd book.

Sure enough, I think it’s s a Skinner’s Hawk, relatively common in woodland areas (which I would not consider my area at all, but maybe it’s lost). Never heard of it before but it fits the description and behavior, namely the following…

Oops — it’s not preening itself: It’s picking apart a dead bird. I couldn’t (mercifully) see much, except feathers floating down periodically.

I do not live in the woods for godsake. I live in a ‘burb right next to the City. It just boggles my mind how many bizarre animals, dead and alive, I see around here. Not to mention where I usually see them, which I won’t get into except to say they’re usually inside my house…

Other than my sister Sarah, who had a bat infestation in her attic (I had one in my bedroom which was enough for me to have to get rabies shots — we always try to outdo each other) and a rotted, maggot-infested raccoon (squirrel maybe?) fall out of her chimney flue into her house releasing millions of maggots,

I just don’t know anyone else who has had all of these bizarre animal sightings / infestations.

Oh wait, I just remembered Brett at work, who smelled found a dead shrek or a shrew or a something in his ?basement ?garage. I don’t remember which, since clearly I have enough of my own traumas to deal with.

I remember my parents having a bird or 2 come out of the chimney when I was a kid, but seriously, do other people have these problems on the scale I seem to have them?

Is this another taboo subject nobody mentions but everyone has?

I’m starting to (albeit paranoically if that’s a word) feel picked upon by the universe for having rescued my animals and for creating a garden and putting up birdhouses and feeders.

This is my reward for engendering nature and wildlife?!

Sounds to me like it’s yet another illustration of — cliché alert — no good deed going unpunished.