Friday, July 24, 2009

Empty House

This the first time in years that I have come downstairs and not had a dog to let out.

We had to put our other dog down. This one was even harder to do. She was still getting around, but it was obvious that the pain meds weren't really working.

What is making this so much harder is that I have 3 older dogs in the kennel this weekend. They are gimping around and one keeps falling off her legs, just like my dogs. It is breaking my heart.

I was thinking that if wasn't for our new baby, this house would be very empty when school started next month. I haven't been home alone since 1995.

And before you ask...not looking for a dog right now.

Saturday, July 18, 2009


Stop overestimating the inherent value of your own urine.

No one wants it as much as you think they do.

I have two pee-ers here this weekend, Smokey and Sparky.
One big, one little, same volume of pee.

Smokey keeps peeing to his right and hitting Tessie's kennel.
Sparky will pee to either side and is nailing both Smokey and Cleo.

If they just would pee on just each other, I would consider it justice. But why do they need to include the girls.

Walls, I need some, walls. Maybe someday. Meanwhile, got to hose down the kennel, today.

I haven't had to vacuum up spilled Cheerios in about 7 years.

First, because we haven't had a toddler in the house in that many years.

Second, because I have Labradors, the floor cleaning system of the dog world.

Miss you even more, 'Nertia, as I have to waste all these wonderful doggie treats the baby is launching off the high chair.

More than ten years ago, with the first baby in the house, 'Nertia claimed that precious space under the high chair for herself. She was already doing a decent job at training this baby to feed her right off the tray, when we lost her.

My other Lab was born with a thorough "child avoidance" sense. She only patrols after the high chair has been vacated. Her eye sight is now so bad, she is really missing out on all the delicacies that are hitting my dining room rug.

Thursday, July 16, 2009

Dog Heaven

I have said this one before.

I do believe there is a dog heaven. Where all the squirrels are slow, the tennis balls taste like Filet Mignon, and everyone gets their own couch.

If we are really good humans, I believe we get to visit our dogs there.

And if you are extra special, they will even let you up on the couch.

One of my dogs died last week. My husband asked if there was anything I wanted to bury with her. I had the funnest image come into my head. Our couch in an enormous hole in the ground with my dog in her usual spot with a pillow under her head. To be on the couch was just never enough, she also had to have a pillow.

A Rose By Any Other Name May Smell as Sweet, But Dogs Tend Not to Come When Called By The Wrong Name

I have a bad case of being my own mother lately. My big sister left for college when I was 10 years old and my mom has been calling me by her name ever since. I noticed that I, too, have been calling the baby by her big sister's name, but now it has spread to the dogs.

Poor Booker, I just kept calling him Ziggy. Ziggy was the dog in than kennel before Booker. Now, I try to justify it with the facts that Ziggy and Booker are really pretty much the same dog, personality wise. When trying to stop myself from using Ziggy, I managed to come up with Blocker. He is also big and black like Booker, but I think that was just my feeble attempt to yank a name out of my head that was even somewhat close to what I needed.

Chance has been Rascal for at least half of his stay. Cleo, however, has gotten her name back. Last stay, I called her Chloe all week.