Four-Legged Lawsuit

Yesterday, when taking the dogs on their afternoon walk, Ginger was feeling frisky. She had tried to chase a rabbit, a new family of geese, and a bathing bird. There was also the occasional leaF or piece of trash but for the most part it was the live prey that she watned.

So I shouldn't have been surprised when the following occurred.

We were crossing the bridge that divides the complex into good and Mexican when a cyclist rode past. She was going pretty slowly and didn't announce herself (I suppose she didn't want to startle the dogs). Neither of them seemed to notice she was even there... I thought. Because as soon as her ankle got within sniffing radius Ginger leapt forward and started barking and snapping. Scared the poor woman clear off her bike! And onto the ground! And I'm.laughing.too.hard.to.type.

BAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAAAA!!!!!!!!!

Oh goodness.

So, after pulling the dogs back and reining Ginger in, I ask if the woman is ok and tell her I wish I could help her up but "...you know. My dog and all". Oh! Oh! That was the best walk ever.

Oooooo! Somebody's In Trouuuuuubblllllle!

Every morning I wake up to new and exciting smells. It's the smell of random feces. Feces in my hall way. Feces in my guest room. Feces in my living room. Feces that's half eaten. (*wretch*) It's quite menacing actually. But I've grown so tired of the sad dogs face and I can only ask "Who's poop is this?" so many times before they both begin to ignore me. It's to the point now that getting professional carpet help is the only way to go.

So, I've decided to go old school on their asses. The dogs now sleep in their crates at night. Just like they did when they were puppies. Because at 4 and 6 I fully expect them to keep their feces to themselves at night. Especially when we go on our customary "last call" every night at 10 o' clock.

They don't know it yet, but I bought ear plugs for this occasion. That's why I don't care that their feelings are hurt. It hurts my feelings every time I step in something damp in my hallway. It hurts my feelings each time I ruin a pair of socks. I become emotionally unstable at the thought of having guests because my house stinks to me so, I can only imagine what other people think.

This is also a test. If they continue to act out then there is no hope for them when I relocate. Especially if I have to spend 30 odd days couch surfing. To tear up my shit is wrong, to tear up someone else's is completely unacceptable.

So, we shall see.

'Til then...

I need to wear more make up

I've noticed when I'm walking the pups that we are getting a lot of attention.

There's Milo'sDad who is so, so very sexxy. He makes me want to walk the dogs all day just so I can keep seeing him. *cougar growl* Or the guy with the deep voice. I like to listen to him talk. But what's most important - aside from them being gorgeous male pet owners - is that they always give me and the pups the appropriate amount of space. They control their dogs accordingly and so when Ginger goes off on her tangent it's all good because they're over there and I'm over here.

Granted, it doesn't work well with my "Catch-a-man-using-the-pups" plan but it keeps me sane during the half hour I have to walk them. She on the other hand doens't believe in this rule. She is a "non-blonde". You know. Like Four Non-Blondes. She has hair like the aloof one in the back, a face like the one in purple and dresses like the kid in the plaid. It's just all bad. And I think she's a taco lover. Where as I am an avid supporter of all kinds of sausage. For breakfast, for dinner, in your mom's house, anytime really.

I've tried keeping my distance but she always feins an inability to control her mongrels. This irks me as it causes Ginger (who is looking quite dapper now that she's groomed) to go into fits. I've tried being polite and asking her nicely to keep her mutts at a distance. Now, we're at the point where we walk across the grass to avoid her. But much like yesterday, she just met us halfway.

I'm over it really. And I'm terribly close to telling her that I don't swing that way. Which is sure to hurt feelings but hey, she shouldn't be stalking me then.

Grooming

The dogs both had appointments with the groomers today but that's not going to happen due to some other circumstances. Instead, I will attempt to groom them myself later this evening after having busted hump with my mom on her spring projects.

1. remove the rest of the leaves from her yard. I raked for 8 hours and put them under a tarp for her to put on the curb once a month until they were all gone because her city picks them up for free. She never got them to the curb.

2. lay down mulch.

3. pull up the dead, fall flowers.

4. pull up that crazy, prickly bush that we pulled up in November but managed to grow back twice as large.

5. get an estimate for getting that damned stump out of the flower bed.

6. manage not to fight while accomplishing tasks 1 - 5.

Yay, Me!

Empty Nest

All of my family has finally returned to their respective homes. My brother was the last to go and now the house feels empty. Not just for me, but for the dogs too.

For two whole weeks, they've had someone there constantly to give them treats, fresh water, play fetch or, in Klea's case, rub a bald spot into her fur.

I had gotten used to being greeted by human voices and not by furry noses (those traitors stopped coming to the door altogether!).

So now they wait for me eagerly, ready to do all the things that we used to do like 15-minute brushings, baths (well, maybe not baths), long walks (hurray for spring!) and stuff.

But we all miss the noise that comes with having a full house. I miss the little surprises like played out pets and clean kitchens.

I miss Grandpa's voice trying to teach them to roll over and to bark on command.

I miss Cam occupying them with constant games of tug and fetch.

I miss Ethan letting them get juuuuuust close enough to be considered nice but not close enough to be considered cuddling.

Mostly, I miss the human conversation.

*sigh*

A Boy and His Pig

Last night, when I was on my way out to take the dogs on yet another walk (I've got to stop walking in and out of the house so much), my brother meandered over to Wilbur and asked, "Do you ever let him out of his cage?".

"Yeah. You just saw me put him in his ball so I could clean the cage."

"But, other than that? You know, to just run around."

"A couple times a week. Except now, you're staying in the office so he doesn't have anywhere to run right now."

"Oh." Sad, sad little man face.

(Reaching his fingers into Wilbur's cage)
"Why is he trying to bite me? Do my fingers taste good to him?"

"He just wants to know you. If you want you can take him out."

"Ok."

The dogs and I come back from our walk to find my 6'4" brother holding Wilbur close to his chest in his massive man hands.

Wilbur is splayed across his hands, eyes bulging and feet holding on for dear life.

"I think he's scared of me."

"Hahahahahahahaa!!! I need to get a picture of this."

"No! I don't want people to know I was holding a guinea pig!"

"Well, be prepared for them to know because I'm putting it on my blog."

Home Alone

I had a very long Saturday. And by that I mean, I HAD ONE HELL OF A SATURDAY.

Ahem...

With the whole family being in town, I knew that I'd be running around a lot. What I didn't know is that that would automatically make my house "the spot". You know? That place where everyone gathers because it's convenient.

But my house is not convenient. In location or otherwise.

Getting back...

Saturday, we picked up my little big brother (I'm older and wiser but he's definitely taller. Definitely). And because he hasn't had leave in over two years he wanted to do everything that he could think of.

Which left my poor babies in the house until 1 the next morning. But you know what? There was no poop anywhere. There was pee in two places but that's to be expected when your mom leaves you at 830a on one day and doesn't come back for 17 hours.

I didn't mean to do it; it just happened.

So I'm proud of my babies. And I know that they love me or at least they eat their poop.