Sick Puppy

So last night I'm laying in bed, sleeping, minding my own business when I feel Sophie run up the bed and come to a stop next to my head. This isn't out of the ordinary. Oftentimes if it is stormy outside, or she hears a noise, or has a bad dream she will come up to lay on my head. What was out of the ordinary is that she came to a stop next to my pillow, horked a few times, and then puked on the bed.

AAAHHHHH!!! NOOOOOO!!!!!

She's still hacking like she's got more coming, and I know I'll never make it outside in time, so I run her into the bathroom because linoleum is easier to clean than beds or carpet.

Hork, hork, puke.

Poor baby, I sit there and pet her for a while and make sure her tummy is settled before I go to get an old towel to clean up her beard. But in a true act of over achievement she takes a few steps out into the hallway to puke on the carpet.

Awesome. Now I have three surfaces to clean at 2:00 in the morning. Sophie is obviously over it and feeling better because she trots back to the bed and snuggles in.

"That's cool, Soph. I got it."

I look around at my vomit covered house and wonder how this is even possible. The puke to container ratio just doesn't make sense in my mind. No wonder it wanted out.

The little piggy.

You know what I hate? Commercials that repeat themselves incessantly.

White girl - "Who says?"

Asian girl - "Who says?"

Overweight girl - "Who says?"

Black girl - "Who says you have to have a period every month?"

ARGHHH!!! The first three got my attention just fine. You didn't have to induce seizures by cutting through several empowered women taking charge of their lives while biking/rock climbing/swimming/clubbing to tell me about it!

If you keep this up, I'll never be

Curly haired girl - "One less"

Girl with freckles - "One less"

Girl with keen sense of fashion - "One less woman diagnosed with cervical cancer."

Because I will not have asked my healthcare provider about the vaccine because I changed the channel after the second girl raised her powerful pointer finger to tell me she's going to be "one less"!

Worst blogger EVER

Today I'd like to talk to you about the worst blogger in history. Timothy Tanner "Turbosauce" Stearman.

This turd asks, nay, BEGS me to create a blogger account for him. He thinks it sounds like fun and, heck, might even make a little change doing it. I work hard on picking out the perfect layout and pictures for him. What really speaks to the flavor of the sauce... and then set him loose on it. He comes out of the gates on fire, guns a blazin! I can't wait to read what's next! Will it be funny, make me laugh? Or be touching? That little softy... Will it be about poop again? Will he finally have learned how to properly punctuate his sentences?

But then on that dark day a few weeks ago when the gay blog master wizard took his dollars away from him, something else was lost too. His desire to blog.

Was it worth it, blogger? Are you happy with yourselves? None of the other blogs I follow ever talk about poop! I'm stuck killing my time on facebook now! LAME!

Time to step it up, worst blogger EVER!

Mom's Day

Some of you may have heard that this past Sunday was Mother's Day. I went to my momma's house where she made lunch for the entire family. You're thinking there's something wrong with that picture? You're right. But that's how it is, and that's what we did. She usually doesn't let me cook or bring much of anything anyway, but I wasn't even allowed to bring rolls or Pepsi or anything! And to my extreme annoyance, Tanner even managed to show up.



My little mother dearest even got ME a gift (and grandma, of course)! Well, technically mine is from Sophie, but I know Mom had to have helped because Sophie doesn't have thumbs and doesn't make enough from her allowance to have made me the cutest picture book EVER.





This all just goes to show what kind of mom I truly have. Because even on "her" day, a day to recognize just her, she's still taking care of everyone else and thinking about the rest of us more than herself. Thanks Mom, I love you so much!

Then after we'd eaten all of Mom's food and dessert, and she'd done the dishes and cleaned up the house, me and Dallas went out to his mommy's house (where she also did most of the work) for dinner and guess who else is a new mommy?!??!?!

One of their horsies!



Wonder if she knows what hard work it is to be a mom on Mother's Day?

He's baaaack...

Charlie has decided he likes my courtyard especially. But Sophie isn't so sure about that...

Stray Charlie

We've had a string of really nice days/evenings here lately, so I've just been leaving my windows open to let the fresh air in and that has been so nice! In the evenings when I'm working on dinner, or hanging in the living room I will leave the screen door open so Sophie can go back and forth out to the courtyard. She doesn't like to be left out there all alone, but if she knows she can get back in whenever she wants to, she'll wander in and out, sniff around the new flowers, or sun bathe.

So since last night was really pretty, I had the door open and Sophie had been meandering around, but got sick of it and came to snuggle with me on the couch while I read and Dallas looked at vintage suits for sale in the area. Yeah, you read that right.

You ever get that feeling of "someones watching me"? I was sitting there, minding my own business, mid love story, when I got that feeling. I looked over and lo and behold, there was a freaking cat in my living room. Just hanging out, looking around.

"THERE'S A CAT IN HERE!" I yell.

Sophie jumps down, trots over to say hi, cat sniffs at her. I pick Sophie up so she doesn't get the dog version of the cat version of AIDS and Dallas proceeds to shoo the cat into the courtyard, lure it through the garage, and out the door.

*wipes hands off on jeans* Well, that was odd, but over with. We sit back down.

"Meow". What the?! The cat is back and staring at us through the screen door! Where did this Houdini feline come from??

I go back out to see what the info on his collar says and the neighbor kid sees me and informs me that it's just Charlie, the neighbor's cat. He tells me they don't keep a very good eye on him so he jumps from roof to courtyard to living room, apparently. Okkkaaaaayyyyyy.... So I just leave him here? The kid shrugs and leaves me to the cat. We decide he got in twice, surely he'll find his way out if he really wants to. And so we did just that... ignored Charlie and he went away again.

Sure, I feel bad for homeless or neglected animals, but I'm not really much of a cat person. Anyone need a new pet???

Snicket

A couple of years ago my grandmother decided that they needed a "buddy". AKA, a dog. My folks tried their darnedest to talk her out of it. They reminded her how much work a puppy can be, how hard it is to train them, how much it sucks to take them out in the winter, vet bills, grooming bills, you name it, they used it! But those of you who know my grandmother also know that she is not so easily dissuaded. A dog she wanted, and a dog she got!

My then sister-in-law was a vet in Junction City and she happened to mention a little Shih-Tzu (or in my opinion, some sort of mutant Shih-Tzu mix) that had been abandoned and was found wandering around a car wash. Grandma had found her dog!

Much to the family's chagrin, Grandma brought home Snickers. No wait, make that Cricket. Ooorrrrrrr Snickers again. Nah, let's stick with Cricket after all. (This early confusion is how he ended up as Snicket.) Snicket could be seen wandering around the yard with Grandpa, sniffing this, peeing on that. Family functions were more interesting with him jumping on laps, squeezing his way onto your dining room chair, and chasing Sophie all over the place. Sophie doesn't love him, but in all fairness... Sophie doesn't care for any other doggies.

Since my parents are adverse to the idea of puppysitting (even their own beloved grandpuppy), Grandma and I have worked out a trade off. I go out of town, she watches my little Sophie angel. She leaves, and I get the dreaded Snicket. And I have had the dreaded Snicket for the past four days. Even though Uncle Tim showed up in town and stayed at her house, I still couldn't catch a break and deliver him early! (And I know you're reading this, Tim. And I totally posted before you did.) Grandma even combed him and bathed him in some sort of Old Spice cologne smelling stuff for his visit. Now my house smells of old man, but that is beside the point.

I haven't run across many animals I don't like, but there is something off about this dog! (The total lack of training, methinks?) The last time I watched him, he walked into the living room and pottied. Right there in front of all of us. Then later, he went downstairs and tried to write his name in my rug. He runs towards oncoming vehicles, he goes into the neighbors houses, he would rather you sit on him or run him over than move to get out of your way, and the dog STARES. I'm sleeping, he's staring at me. I'm doing laundry, he's staring at me. I'm in the bath tub, he comes in and just stares at me! Creeeeepy...

Also, he ignored his own food and ate all of Sophie's so she had to eat what was left of his and it made her sick and she threw up on the bed. Awesome.

So it's finally time for Snicket to go home. Grandma and I are even - DC vs. Branson. I load his kennel and all of his toys in the car. I put him in the back seat and we're off. Except that Snicket doesn't want to sit in the back seat. He wants to jump up to the passenger seat and snot all over the window. But then he decides he doesn't like the passenger seat either and wants to drive, so he jumps over to my seat onto my BACK, while I'm trying to drive his crazy tail home! ARGHHHH Snicket! Grandma will be sad if I throw you out the window right now, so just get in the back seat, hold on and shut up!

We finally arrived at Grandma's unscathed, but you know what the kicker is? I'm trying to go out of town over Memorial Day so I'll be in puppysitting debt again!

*Sighs loudly...*