Dog Toy Insanity

This is what happens when we get four free frisbees at a dog parade.

I’m putting “true” history Tuesday on pause today to talk about my dog Celie.  Celie is totally bossy especially when it comes to dog toys.  I’ve never seen anything like it…and I’ve seen a lot of crazy dog behavior.  When we get toys for the dogs we always try to be thoughtful and fair.  Each of the four dogs gets a hand-picked toy based on their personality.  We are sometimes in the dog toy aisle for a ridiculously long time picking out just the right toy.  Once we get home, there is a great deal of fanfare as we distribute the toys.  Each dog runs to their “dog toy chewing” spot.  Celie’s spot is in the middle of the couch.  She will vigorously “kill” her toy for a good 15 or so minutes.  Then she will start shaking and barking and announcing to the entire house that this is her toy.  She then leaves the area and systematically steals all the toys and hordes them on the couch.  Next, she starts a frantic guarding and playing routine that is nothing short of flying over the cuckoo’s nest.  We finally have to take all the toys away.  We’ve both nearly lost fingers and once part of an arm trying to take the toys away from her.  Then the toys have to be hidden on top of the fridge.  If we don’t put them on the fridge and she see’s them, she will run circles, bark, growl and attempt to guard the entire circumference of the area where the toys are stored.  In addition to this craziness, she can catch any toys thrown from any distance and any height (watch video below).  She is whacko-doodle.

Dog Alarm Clock and Alien Brain Hemorrhage

It is virtually impossible to sleep in with four dogs.  We always have one that gets up early.  No matter which one it is, that one feels compelled to get all the others up, too.  Once all four dogs are up, they then combine forces to make sure we are awake, too.  This can be done indirectly with creepy staring or directly with surprise face licking.  Waking us up would all make sense if they had to potty, but they don’t because they woke us up at 5:00am for that adventure.  Once every one is awake to partially awake, it is time for wrestling.  The dogs feel it is very important to step on us as much as possible when engaging in early morning wrestling.  They especially enjoy jumping from high distances and landing dead center on one of our boobs.  Our screams only intensify the wrestling experience.  Once we are completely awake and having coffee, it is time for the dogs to immediately go back to sleep.  Such bastards.

We had a birthday party for a friend last night.  These were the shots we made (thank you, Colt and David).  It is called an Alien Brain Hemorrhage.  The sensation of drinking one is a little like eating an oyster.  Give them a try.

Alien Brain Hemorrhage

Fill shot glass half-way with Peach Schnapps
Gently pour about a tsp of Bailey’s Irish Cream on top
Then carefully add a little bit of blue curacao
Let it settle and then add a few drops of grenadine syrup.

Poop Pouch and Science Activity

Several bullet points about this product:

*  If I put this on my dogs they would never move forward.  They would only move in a circle trying to remove it.

*  My dogs are already crazy enough…why would I want to add to their insanity and overall embarrassment at the dog park by strapping a bag to their ass?

*  How is putting this on your dog easier than just taking a bag and picking up the poop?  

Water Molecules on the Move

What You’ll Need:

A clear glass filled with hot water

A clear glass filled with cold water

Food coloring

An eye dropper (or use plastic food coloring bottles that allow one drop at a time)

What You Do:

Fill the glasses with the same amount of water, one cold and one hot.  Put one drop of food coloring into both glasses as quickly as possible.  Watch what happens to the food coloring.

What’s Happening?

If you watch closely you will notice that the food coloring spreads faster throughout the hot water than in the cold.  The molecules in the hot water move at a faster rate, spreading the food coloring faster than the cold water molecules which move slower.

Cleaning With Dogs and Santa's Beard

I have a system for cleaning the floors.  If you don’t have a system for cleaning the floors with four dogs, you might be crazy.  (Now I realize at this juncture you could say having four dogs is crazy and I would agree, but now that I have them, I must clean up after them.  Not cleaning up after them makes you the Mayor of Crazytown.  So there.)  I don’t have any carpet in my house. NONE…expect for a small Persian rug at the front door.  I learned years ago that dogs and carpet don’t mix well.  My floor cleaning process is very structured.  I start by sweeping the floors, then I vacuum the floors, then I use a swiffer dusting pad all over the floors, vacuum again and then mop.  The structured process also includes lots of cuss words directed at the dogs and their shedding.  An additional side activity of the floor cleaning structure is the dogs; they do attempt to jack up the process by running through the cleaning area and, of course, continuing to shed. 

I got home from work yesterday to scraps of brown soggy cardboard all over the house.  Tiffany explained that Harpo had located an empty wrapping paper tube.  I wrapped presents earlier.  The tube was apparently widely popular with all the dogs.  Everyone had a turn.  There were even fights.  It was high drama.  The drama maximized the destruction and spread the chewed up scraps everywhere.  My dogs are nothing if not thorough.

This morning I saw a story about a Santa mishap in Florida.  Apparently a mall Santa tried to make an "exciting" appearance to his “North Pole” post by rappelling down a rope.  Well…his beard got stuck in the rope and he dangled there for awhile, working feverishly to detangle the beard.  I found this very funny.  It reminded me of sitting in meetings and listening to stupid ideas that sound really fantastic if you completely remove the logistics of it actually working successfully.  You can almost imagine being the person sitting across the table and watching a coworker yell, “Dude!!!  Santa could make an appearance by rappelling!  Wouldn’t the kids love that shit!!!!!!!”  Same coworker would naturally be off work the day Santa's beard got stuck in the rope.

Dogs Are Blanket Hogs and Gobbler Cobbler

Recently we purchased a throw blanket from Sam’s Club.  We have an older home so drafts are common in the winter.  We looked at purchasing new windows, but (holy crap) the price was prohibitive.  So we go with blankets when watching television in the living room.  Tiffany found this blanket at Sam’s, we bought one and it has been like crack cocaine in our house.  We have carried it from room to room.  We’ve had visitors stay the night who have carried it from room to room.  No matter if you bring the blanket to bed or use it on the couch, all the dogs must have it touching their skin.  I woke up last night and I had two dogs on my left and two dogs on my right, I was imprisoned inside the blanket.  I had zero range of motion.  My mind went immediately to what would I do if there was a fire and I couldn’t move.  Clearly, I’d have more to worry about with a fire, but the brain is a funny thing.  It isn’t like we don’t have other blankets that the dogs could use.  In fact, they have their own blankets on the couch.  Apparently, those blankets are shit now and they want our blanket.  There is no justice and we can’t have anything that they don’t decide is theirs, too.  I attempted to push them off the blanket last night and in my sleepy haze all I saw were looks of indignation.  The entrapment became too much and I used all my strength to go on a dog moving rampage.  I went back to sleep, woke up an hour later and every dog was back in the exact same spot where I had moved them from…I was trapped again.  Once again, as I type, the blanket is near me and so are the dogs.  Bastards.

You really should check out this recipe.  A very dear friend shared it with me.  I love sharing recipes.  That sounds so 1950s housewife, but I don’t freaking care.  Which saying, “don’t freaking care” offsets the 1950s housewife feel, or at least I think it does.  She suggested the change of using chicken instead of turkey, red peppers instead of green, no water chestnuts and have crust on top and on bottom.  All good changes, but I do think this is a handy recipe to have around after Thanksgiving.  If you have as much turkey as we have left, this is a good recipe to use some of that turkey.  But trust me, the change to chicken is a good one.  Either way try this and get one of those blankets from Sam’s, just don’t have four selfish dogs around if you do.  They are all snoring right now.  Bastards.

Gobbler Cobbler Pie (http://www.pauladeen.com)

Ingredients

1 cup mayonnaise

1 package fresh sliced mushrooms

1 green bell pepper, diced

1 yellow bell pepper, diced

1 medium onion, diced

1 small can sliced water chestnuts, drained

1 can French style green beans, drained

1 package Long Grain Wild Rice (recommended Uncle Ben’s)

3 cups cooked turkey, chopped

2 cups grated cheddar cheese

1 package preformed pie crust

1 tablespoon oil

1 teaspoon poultry seasoning

1 cup sour cream

1 egg, beaten

Preparation

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.  Prepare the rice according to package instructions and set aside.  Sauté onions, peppers, and mushrooms in oil and set aside.  Combine all ingredients except 1 cup of cheese and pie crust, into large bowl and mix well.  Pour into greased 9-inch glass pie plate.  Top with remaining 1 cup of cheese and set aside.  Roll out pie crust, cut into ½-inch wide strips and cover dish in lattice design, then brush dough lightly with egg (remember crust on top and bottom is just better).  Place in 350 degree oven for 30 minutes, when top is golden brown, remove, let cool and enjoy.  

Dogs in Glass Houses Shouldn't Eat Glass

Yesterday morning started out with a bang, well, more of a crash, really.  I made the mistake of leaving a glass on the coffee table.  I had made myself a sweet-tea vodka cocktail the night before while I watched Parenthood (pretty good show, BTW).  Then I headed to bed to read and completely forgot to put the glass in the dishwasher.  The dogs and I got up the next morning and Harpo was jack-rabbit jumping from couch to loveseat trying to play with the other dogs.  He’s such an idiot, but he is an agile idiot…which really compounds his ability to cause damage.  As I was putting on my shoes to walk them, Harpo continued to jump and fly around like a moron.  Not surprisingly, his foot hit the glass I left on the table.  It crashed to the floor and broke.  Glass was everywhere with all the dogs, including Harpo, looking at me like I had thrown a glass at them.  I had to keep the dogs from the glass and get the broom – which is not easy when you are still half-asleep.  I thought I got everything swept up and off we went on our walk.  As we walked, I imagined myself spraying the back of Harpo’s head with a water gun.  This gave me joy.

I took this picture because it is so rare for Harpo to actually sit still.  Notice how he wears a harness.  He is such a moron when we walk that his body must be encased in this apparatus.

Later that morning, Celie bounded up on the couch.  She seemed very proud and began to loudly crunch and chew something.  I asked Tiffany, “What does she have?”  Tiffany looked and Celie continued to crunch.  As Tiffany got closer, Celie’s expression changed and she growled.  She was defending whatever she had found.  Tiffany asked her, “What do you have?”  She does this, yet history has proven they won’t ever actually answer her questions.  Tiffany’s hand swooped in and pulled out…a big piece of glass.  Celie was not only eating, but defending the right to eat a piece of freaking glass.  Celie is the smallest of our dogs, but the alpha.  She constantly displays her toughness, but this was slightly ridiculous.  I suppose if she could she would eat fire and stick pins in her face, too.  

Guess which one is Celie?

Swimming in Pee

We have a dog named Cujo.  This was really funny when he was little and actually still funny because he is the sweetest dog in the world.  He is not the brightest bulb in the box, but he gives us the least amount of trouble out of all four dogs…except for one thing.  He is a pee machine.  I have never seen anything like it.  He probably pees 50 times a day and he does not have unlimited access to water.  He’s been to the vet and been tested for everything, but there is nothing wrong with him.  He is just a crazy, Corgi-mix pee master.

Some asshole threw him out of a car when he was just four weeks old.  We adopted him after he had spent four weeks in the hospital.  Perhaps the brain injury triggered the pee valve in his brain.  Do you have a pee valve in your brain?  Pretty sure I learned that in biology.  Part of the trauma has also made his eyes look in different directions.  I think this just enhances his cute factor, plus he can scan an entire room just be sitting in the middle of it and looking straight ahead.  Not a bad trait for a “guard” dog.  I’m writing all this because I just took him out to pee.  He peed four times.  Each time sounded like someone turned on a sink full blast.  He came back inside, sat down and looked at me with one eye.  He never doesn’t look happy, no way to not love him for that. 

The Drama That is Harpo

In my house if anything is ripped, missing or chewed, we always look to one dog, Harpo.  As I’ve mentioned, he is a mess.  He is high energy, needy, does not listen, causes trouble and always leaves drama in his wake.  He is sweet though, and of course we love him and all his crazy faults.  Last night, however, I nearly murdered him.  He went outside to play and pee in the backyard before bed.  Tiffany had already left for work and my plan was to read and fall asleep.  Harpo came back inside and all the other dogs got settled in their places.  If you have dogs, you know what I mean…everyone has their place where they sleep.  Harpo decided, instead, to lay his head on the side of the bed by my face, whine and use his beefy paw to push on my book.  He acted like he couldn’t jump up on the bed.  This is crazy, since he has been known to jump over your head while you are sitting on the couch.  I patted the bed and told him to get up, but still, he whined.  I finally picked him up and put him on the bed.  He kept sighing heavily and trying to lean up against my face.  I finally put my book down and looked at him.  He kept looking at his tail.  I checked it and it seemed fine…although he wasn’t wagging it.  The drama continued all night with me and him getting absolutely no sleep.  We tossed, we turned, he pushed and he whined.  He was everywhere, but sleeping like he should have been. Turns out, he sprained his tail somehow in the backyard.  The way he acted last night was as if his tail had been completely cut off and blood was gushing everywhere.  He is all about the drama.  I feel bad that his tail is bothering him, but the fact that he is now sleeping with ease on the couch makes me want to whine loudly and push on his face.

Walking the Dogs with Supertramp

It isn’t easy to walk four dogs.  It is especially difficult to walk four dogs that are crazy.  My smallest and bossiest dog, Celie, woke me up at 7:00am.  She does this by either barking in your face or scratching at your face and arm.  Sometimes, she does both.  She has a blood-curdling bark and can make it especially loud and high-pitched when it involves waking up her human.  Once she is up…everybody is up.  Once they are up and I am vertical, the dogs begin running in all different directions.  They are everywhere.  I then have to line them up (I say this loosely because it isn’t really a line at all).  The boys, Harpo and Cujo, must wear harnesses.  If they don’t, they pull you like a Siberian Husky race team.  They are always in a hurry to get where they are going…although they don’t really know where they are going, at all.  The girls patrol and guard the pack while we walk.  Any movement causes them to sound off.  It is completely embarrassing.  My neighbors know us.  My neighbors avoid us. 

I usually found my happy place on our walks by listening to music on my phone.  This morning Supertramp’s Goodbye Stranger came on the radio.  Is there anybody who does not sing the falsetto part of that song?  Is there anybody who truly knows how loudly they are singing when they have their music turned up and ear buds in your ears?  So, this morning my neighbors didn’t just get the crazy dog antics, they got me singing Supertramp…at 7:00am.  I’m thinking the chances are low of us getting some baked good around the holidays from the neighbors.

Dramatic Vet Encounters

Two of the dogs, Saphie and Cujo, had to go to the vet today.  Saphie needed her annual shots, her nails trimmed and her back legs checked.  Cujo needed to have a lump on his chest examined.  The drama started the minute we attempted to leave the house.  The dogs not going, Celie and Harpo, were not happy that Saphie and Cujo were being leashed up to go somewhere.  Celie took her aggression out on Saphie while Harpo jumped around hoping this would inspire us to take him, too.  Finally we headed out the door to the car.  Saphie and Cujo were elated.  I’m sure they were thinking the dog park was in their future.  They figured out this wasn’t the case the minute we pulled into the vet parking lot.  At that moment, reality set in and their nerves took over and pandemonium ensued. When we opened the door, Cujo bounded from the car (he is a Corgi mix and has short squatty legs and a rotund middle) and attempted to run away sideways to avoid stepping on his own leash.  Saphie tried to hide in the backseat.  She is overweight and fluffy white while the car interior is black.  We spotted her right away.  Her eyes were filled with terror as if the backseat were made of quicksand.  Finally, we walked into the vet.  They know us there.  People know us anywhere we go with our dogs.  We are memorable.  We signed in and Saphie immediately took a giant crap on the floor. 

Cujo is nervous as shit.

Saphie is nervous as shit...literally.

Shit clean up.  Saphie is under the chair at this point.

Cujo is the first one up on the table.  He is generally really good at that vet.  He is just nervous and does a lot of panting and pacing.  The lump on his chest hasn’t grown since the last visit, but the vet did a fine needle aspiration.  Everything appeared to be fine.  That is until they weighed him.  He has gained weight and we were told he needed to go on a diet.  Tiffany and I decided we would discuss his new diet plan over waffles at the Waffle House.

Saphie was next.  We both dread taking her to the vet.  She has several red marks in her file…large ones, bolded and underlined.  She doesn’t like her nails to be touched, she doesn’t like her hair to be pulled (she is a wire haired terrier and you are supposed to pull certain hairs out to groom her), she doesn’t like to be looked at directly in the eyes, she doesn’t like baby talk, she abhors the fecal test (we believe this is why she always craps in the waiting room), she hates needles and even the sight of them, she does not like tile, she detests the muzzle which she now has to wear as a result of her many outbursts in the past, she doesn’t like fluorescent lights, talking, clinic tables, medical charts, scales, microscopes and other dogs.  It is a traumatic experience for everyone involved and naturally everyone who works there knows Saphie.  They all rush in to assist.  Her reputation precedes her.  I see their looks, I see them putting on the Kevlar vests, bird of prey full arm gloves and chainmail.  I know what they are thinking, but she is my angel.  She just doesn’t like the vet and feels that through drama and violence she can express her loathing. She got her shots, she got her nails trimmed and she got her back legs checked. Her legs have been bothering her.  She has a touch of arthritis.  I will get her a special velvet pillow.  Arthritis, however, did not prohibit her from putting up her usual fight at the vet.  She is made of piss, vinegar, clouds, love and rainbows. 

Mission accomplished...time to get the heck out of there.

Dog Hair and Heat

Thick, short coarse hair...mostly found hugging baseboards.

Coarse and wiry...the hair also appears to be water and murphy's oil soap repellent.

Short and tough needle-like hairs...she'll look cute and act like they didn't come from her when you get stuck by one.

Fluffy haired fiend...hairs found floating everywhere around the house.  Culprit of the hair balls that resemble large tumbleweeds.

As I’m sitting here typing on my laptop, I can’t help but notice the nice layer of dog hair on my coffee table.  This is what happens if I don’t dust every day.  One thought I have is to just completely shave the dogs, but the thought of the drama that would cause puts that idea out of my head immediately.  I also thought about wrapping double-sided sticky tape around all the dogs.   I figured this would not only catch their hair, but the hair from the other dogs, too.  Of course, then I consider the drama that would result from the tape removing process. It is just going to be a never-ending cycle.  I just have to deal with it and dust.  Or…I could tape the dogs up as planned, eliminate the tape removal process by just adding new tape to the old tape and also tape a swiffer duster to each of their heads.  They’d look cute and mythical like a unicorn and they would serve a utilitarian purpose other than warming the furniture before I sit down and tripping me on the way to the bathroom.  This has potential.  I might patent this before somebody steals the idea.  I feel smart right now. 

It is hot as all get out here.  It feels like August…in hell.  You should never be able to actually see humidity, but there it is.  This is naturally making the dogs lose their hair even more.  It is a combination of heat and hair and I’m not liking it very much.  This is the map they used on the news to show the temperature.  I thought giving it that nice orange-red fire looking appearance was a nice touch.  It was the media’s way of saying, “sweet Lord, it is hot as hell out there.”  All this heat and hair makes me want to take a nap…which is what I think I will go do right now.

Complete Dog Chaos

I am now on day 10 of 20 carbs or less a day.  My energy is at an amazing level, my mood is better and I’ve lost 9 pounds.  I’m pretty happy with the results, but honestly I would still cut a bitch for a biscuit or sugar cookie.  I’ve also started my part-time job (I really like it, BTW) and the temperature has gone down…that to me says Crockpot!  These are a couple of low-carb recipes I made this week.  You can carb them up, too by adding rice to the first recipes and tortilla chip to the second.  Additionally, these two recipes are easy on the pocket book.  That is if you carry a pocket book…if not than it is easy on the wallet or purse. 

Before I get to the recipes, let me tell you what just happened.  Before I started typing this, I opened the back door for the dogs.  Like I said, it is a little chilly today so the temperature was perfect to leave the door open so the dogs could come and go as they please.  Harpo (this is the dog who always gets in trouble) just came running in the house completely covered with mud.  This set off a chain reaction.  Tiffany and I were running about trying to catch Harpo while the other dogs were just running around to be a part of the chaos.  The birds also joined in by screaming and whistling.  We finally wrestled Harpo into the tub.  Now there is mud all over the bathroom and a wet dog running around rolling all over everything.  This prompted me to include some pictures from today as well as some other distinctly Harpo moments.  After the pictures, you’ll find the recipes.

Easy Crockpot Chicken

Ingredients

4 boneless chicken breast halves, cut into 1” pieces

1/8 tsp garlic powder

5 large tomatoes, chopped

2 large onions, chopped

1 large green pepper, chopped

¼ cup Worcestershire sauce

¼ cup soy sauce

Salt and pepper to taste

1 tsp dried basil

1 tsp dried marjoram

1 tsp dried oregano

Preparation

Sprinkle chicken with garlic powder.  Combine all ingredients and place in a Crockpot.   Cook on high for 5-7 hours.  You can serve over steamed cauliflower.

Chicken Taco Soup

Ingredients

4 chicken breasts cooked and diced or shredded

1 pkg ranch soup mix

1 pkg taco seasoning

I can of rotel

2 cans chicken broth

Shredded cheddar cheese

Sour cream

Preparation

Place all ingredients in a crockpot.  Cook on low 4-6 hours.  Serve with handful of cheddar cheese and a dollop of sour cream on top.

Spring Cleaning, Graffiti and As The Tennis Ball Turns Volume 3

The last few days have been devoted to getting the yard ready for spring.  I decided it was time to repaint some of my patio furniture.  Obviously this required spray paint, cardboard and beer.  There was this odd thing about putting the furniture on the cardboard. (It was handy that we had purchased boxes for our move to Shreveport that didn’t happen. It was like we knew we’d eventually need cardboard.  We are clairvoyant…except then I guess we wouldn’t have purchased the boxes in the first place.  Well whatever…WINNING!  BTW Clairvoyant would be a good name for a daughter, if you are considering baby names right now.)  The odd thing was all four dogs felt compelled to pee on the cardboard.  Apparently, they felt the cardboard was their property and everyone including the wrought iron furniture should be aware of this.  At one point, Harpo even came up to pee on it while I was painting.  It was tempting for me to pee on it, as well, but I resisted.  I peed where God intended us to pee…in the neighbor’s flower bed. 

All the spray painting got me to thinking.  I should be a renegade graffiti artist.  My spray-painted artistry would always include a giraffe and a toffee muffin somewhere in the masterpiece.  It seems reasonable if you’re going to do something that is spelled with two fs than the outcome should also be something with two fs.  I wouldn’t be your average graffiti riffraff ruffian; I would appreciate the double use of the letter f.  I’d also paint in the buff. My art would be so popular that people would raffle off my works.  I’m not bluffing, it would have that effect.  Other graffiti artists would be baffled and in a kerfuffle.  They would shuffle off in a huff. Sniff. But you’d know my work wasn’t fluff.  Okay wow that was pretty stupid…sorry.  I hope I didn’t offend.  Too much coffee and taffy, maybe.

I discovered after I wrote this and went looking for a picture that there was a graffiti artist who painted giraffes!  http://www.ohmanclothing.com/blog/?p=292

Speaking of stupid…I finished another volume of the dog soap opera, As the Tennis Ball Turns!

A Bad Case of PMS and the Dog Soap Opera Continues

There’s no doubting PMS is in full effect when you find yourself yelling at your printer and then your computer because it won’t print out a Maxwell House coffee coupon, especially when you really aren’t that partial to Maxwell House.  I mean it is good to the last drop and all, but it isn’t great or anything.  I could see if it were a Duncan Donuts coffee coupon…now that I’d throw a bitch-ass tantrum and/or pop a cap in someone’s ass over and I’d know PMS wasn’t a factor.

I did end up saving over $35 at the grocery this morning on my $95 bill.  To any rational, non PMSing individual that’d be really good.  But I’m still dwelling on that coffee coupon.  I found myself a few minutes ago giving the just purchased coffee the stink eye and then getting irritated with the dogs because they weren’t pissed at the coffee, too.  Then in the next second, I was upset thinking the coffee didn’t like me anymore.  It was just sitting there…being distant.  I needed a good coffee cry.  Then I was angry again.  It was probably the coffee that caused the coffee coupon not to print.  Hating. Seething. Crying. Paranoia. Coffee.

After all this emotional roller-coaster, I’m exhausted.  But on a brighter note, I did finish Volume 2 of the dog soap opera As the Tennis Ball Turns.  This episode is called Caged. 



Yes, I did in fact film a soap opera starring my dogs...AND HERE IT IS!

Well I’m not sure if it’s the four cups of coffee or just completing my magnum opus…but I’m excited.  I completed Volume 1 of my dog soap opera, As the Tennis Ball Turns.  Because it is Volume 1 that does mean that there will be a Volume 2.  I know, I know…you’re unsure I can recreate the magic of volume 1.  I’m the type of person who likes to set the bar high, reach for the stars, push myself to the limit, go for the gold.  You can’t run away from who you are…you can only embrace it and stick it on your blog.  Please enjoy.  *quietly bows and slowly walks away backward and humble*

Hunting Dogs and the Death of a Fly

Apparently a horse fly got into the house.  I noticed it while drinking my coffee this morning.  It sounded like a super tiny Boeing Vertol CH-46 Sea Knight helicopter was evacuating refugees around my head.  That was annoying, but it really took a turn when the dogs got involved. 

My overweight terrier Saphie, who happens to be afraid of her own shadow, channeled her inner wolf.  Years of domestication has altered a dog’s genetic predisposition to effectively hunt.  While certainly serious about her prey, she lacked the stealth of her ancestors.  She knocked over pictures, candles and a light.  And still the fly eluded capture. 

As this was going on, my other three dogs thought it was some sort of glorious game.  All four were running in circles while the fly flew…flipping them off, I assume.  Then in an attempt to save the living room, I too got involved.  We were all running fast, but not really going anywhere.  Invariably, my coffee got thrown into the mix…all over the floor.  And then in one splendidly magnificent bound toward the couch, Saphie caught the fly.  It was the most graceful thing you could observe while sliding in a puddle of spilt coffee.  I was so proud.  In that moment, she was a wolf.  She ended up spitting the fly out and one of my other dogs ate it, but she did what she set out to do.  She is a true huntress.

Last Minute Entries to the Westminster Dog Show

I am hoping to get four late entries registered in the Westminster Dog Show:

#1.  I will bite your face off if you keep taking my picture breed.

#2.  The look at my toy.   Can you see it right there?  It is in front of me breed.

#3.  The I hate the camera.  Please don’t take my picture especially with this stupid hat on my head breed.

#4.  The Chupacabra in window breed.