Me: Things currently in our garbage can - 3 chicken carcasses, 2 grocery bags full of dog poop and 1 dead squirrel. It's like the 3 days of Christmas, but grosser.
Michael: Woah. Wait, you mean Ginger didn't eat the dead squirrel?
Me: Of course not, there were perfectly good turds to eat...I was cleaning those up when I came across the squirrel. I think I'd like Ginger better if she actually ate all the poop and not just some of the poop.
Can you just throw away a dead squirrel? I wasn't sure what else to do with it...I mean, I'm not interested in hosting funerals for animals I don't even know. We can't have word get out that I'll bury everything that dies in our yard. We'd suddenly have a bunch of old animals wandering in the backyard waiting to die.
Michael: True...we already have one animal we want to die...can't be taking on more.
Me: Anyway, I imagine the trash guy is happier with the dead squirrel than the 20 bags of dog crap we throw away each week. Maybe we should start composting...but I wouldn't want to eat anything growing from poop and carcasses.
Michael: I think a burial at sea is the preferred squirrel way. A solemn ceremony where other squirrels can look on in mourning.
Me: Are you saying I should've flushed him? Our toilet gets backed up if you flush a used tissue...remind me to get a card and some cash for the trash guys this week.
Showing posts with label Animals. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Animals. Show all posts
Friday, December 16, 2011
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Lest Another Day Goes By Without Him Starring in His Own Post
Because three dogs aren't enough.
Meet Edison:
For the most part, Edison is an unpredictable shitbox who can go off at any moment like a forgotten IED that detonates 20 years after the fact. There's slashing, hissing, pouncing and biting. So, you know, he's a typical cat.
Edison was the wild card when we found out we were pregnant. We were pretty sure the dogs wouldn't try to eat The Bean, but Edison...well, there are two people in this world who have survived a run-in with Edison without earning a scar (Michael and I do not make this exclusive list).
To say I was nervous about bringing The Bean home and having Edison be in the house is a bit of an understatement.
I may or may not have imagined something like this:
However I was clinging to one small shred of hope. Edison (unlike Ginger, The Turd Princess of Atlanta) has at least one redeeming quality.
He LOVES his platypus.
What? That sentence doesn't make sense to you?
Here:
That would be Edison and his platypus. And I reiterate: he LOVES his platypus.
Edison and the platypus met one Christmas when my grandmother thought I would like a stuffed platypus wearing a Santa hat (what 25-year old wouldn't like that?). I pulled the platypus out of the box and the love was immediate and palpable.
They were inseparable from that moment on.
One week Edison vigilantly guarded a closet door. I presumed it was another "weird cat thing" like climbing curtains, getting one's head stuck in a drinking glass and hanging out in the sink like it was a jacuzzi. When I opened the closet door to grab the vacuum, Edison darted in and started rummaging through things. He emerged triumphant with his platypus. Apparently, I had mistakenly put a bag the platypus was 'hiding' in away in the closet.
The platypus is a part of our lives. He is routinely left in the food bowl (Edison doesn't want him to starve), guards the bedroom door while Edison is sleeping and greets me and dogs at the front door after we've gone for a walk. Edison spends his nights regaling the platypus with stories of the day's adventures and eventually scolds him for some perceived slight the platypus unwittingly performed.
There were two possible reactions Edison would have with the introduction of The Bean to the family. (A) he would see her and that cartoon above would become reality or (B) he would ignore her completely until he decided to tear her apart as detailed in the cartoon.
I didn't even consider he would be excited that I brought home a new platypus.
Edison is the first to the scene when The Bean loses her mind and starts a screaming fit. He will pace under her rocker and give me disapproving looks because I'm a bad mother whose child has to cry to get what it needs. The platypus never cries.
He will also bring the platypus into the nursery when The Bean and I are in there nursing or playing. Apparently he was waiting for a second member to include in his Mommy and Me group.
Congratulations Edison. You've earned redeeming quality number two.
Meet Edison:
Edison was the wild card when we found out we were pregnant. We were pretty sure the dogs wouldn't try to eat The Bean, but Edison...well, there are two people in this world who have survived a run-in with Edison without earning a scar (Michael and I do not make this exclusive list).
To say I was nervous about bringing The Bean home and having Edison be in the house is a bit of an understatement.
I may or may not have imagined something like this:
He LOVES his platypus.
What? That sentence doesn't make sense to you?
Here:
Edison and the platypus met one Christmas when my grandmother thought I would like a stuffed platypus wearing a Santa hat (what 25-year old wouldn't like that?). I pulled the platypus out of the box and the love was immediate and palpable.
They were inseparable from that moment on.
One week Edison vigilantly guarded a closet door. I presumed it was another "weird cat thing" like climbing curtains, getting one's head stuck in a drinking glass and hanging out in the sink like it was a jacuzzi. When I opened the closet door to grab the vacuum, Edison darted in and started rummaging through things. He emerged triumphant with his platypus. Apparently, I had mistakenly put a bag the platypus was 'hiding' in away in the closet.
The platypus is a part of our lives. He is routinely left in the food bowl (Edison doesn't want him to starve), guards the bedroom door while Edison is sleeping and greets me and dogs at the front door after we've gone for a walk. Edison spends his nights regaling the platypus with stories of the day's adventures and eventually scolds him for some perceived slight the platypus unwittingly performed.
There were two possible reactions Edison would have with the introduction of The Bean to the family. (A) he would see her and that cartoon above would become reality or (B) he would ignore her completely until he decided to tear her apart as detailed in the cartoon.
I didn't even consider he would be excited that I brought home a new platypus.
Edison is the first to the scene when The Bean loses her mind and starts a screaming fit. He will pace under her rocker and give me disapproving looks because I'm a bad mother whose child has to cry to get what it needs. The platypus never cries.
He will also bring the platypus into the nursery when The Bean and I are in there nursing or playing. Apparently he was waiting for a second member to include in his Mommy and Me group.
Congratulations Edison. You've earned redeeming quality number two.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Dogs and Babies
In part 2 of my practical How-To series, I have provided a detailed account of how to take your baby and dogs for a walk at the same time without having to blow your brains out by the end of the excursion.
43% of our family is comprised of canine members.
Since I haven't properly introduced everyone here on the blog yet, let me take a few minutes to do so.
I'll get the bad news over with first.
Ginger
Don't be fooled by her pathetic, forlorn 1,000-yard stare. This dog is the bane of our existence. Mainly because her natural state looks something more like this:
Why yes, that is a giant turd hanging out of her mouth; thank you for asking.
This turd burglar needs constant monitoring else you will find her with her head in the cat box or scavenging for delicacies outside. Hers, other dogs', she's not picky.
Apart from eating so much shit that she has put on about 10 pounds in the last week, she also tries to steal the other dogs' food while her bowl is full, freaks out to the point of major destruction on our house during thunderstorms (yes, we've tried everything...she is just a crazy old dog that will not be comforted by drugs, weird thunderstorm blankets or being hit in the head repeatedly with a brick), is a bottomless pit of need and is a general butt hole--so at least she has that going for her.
But like that weird uncle you have, she's family and we're stuck with her until the bitter end. She's about 14 years old and will outlive everyone in the family just to spite us all. She is that hateful.
Let's move on.
Baxter
Baxter is the golden child who can do no wrong. Look, we know parents aren't supposed to have favorites, but it's hard not to when you have a Baxter in your midst.
Baxter is the king of cuddles. If cuddling was an Olympic sport he would be the undisputed gold medal champion.
Baxter is a live and let live kind of guy whose reasons for existence include playing ball, swimming in lakes and did I mention the cuddling?
Finally to round out the dog troop, we have Bear:
Bear is a mama's boy.
Bear's main contribution to this family is barking.
Everyone asks how the dogs have handled having The Bean added to our family. For the most part, the dogs have been wildly unimpressed with The Bean's arrival.
Ginger continues to eat poop with wild abandon. We must throw all of the poopy diapers into a lidded garbage can and get it out of the house as quickly as possible lest we add another flavor to her culinary poop tour.
Baxter has always been a sensitive guy. He was the hardest hit by The Bean's arrival since we cannot shower him with love and affection 24 hours a day like he was accustomed to receiving. The arrival of The Bean has turned him into a petulant teenager because he's not getting all the attention.
And Bear still barks.
We attempted a group outing one day while I was in the throes of a guilt-ridden hormonal meltdown. The dogs hadn't been on a proper walk since The Bean had come home and their antsy following me from room to room was driving me up the wall.
In an effort to not kill everyone in the house, I packed us up. Three dogs on leashes, one Bean in a stroller and me in my sneakers.
We made it three feet from the front door.
In that time, I had hit each of the dogs twice with the stroller. The leashes were wrapped around the wheels of the stroller making it impossible to move forward. And I was stuck between the leashes and the stroller.
How To Walk Three Dogs with a Stroller
Step 1: Leave all nasty shit-eaters at home.
How To Walk Two Dogs with a Stroller
Step 1: Place a leash in each hand and position one dog on each side of the stroller. (see Exhibit A)
Step 2: Take one step and be unable to progress further. (See Exhibit B)
Step 3: Untangle leashes, self and stroller and reposition as explained in Step 1.
Step 4: Take four steps and crash stroller into black dog at least 4 times.
Step 5: Be assertive and refuse to stop walking just because black dog cannot figure out how to get out of the way of the stroller. Dogs are smart; he will learn to stay on one side of the stroller and not directly in front of it.
Step 6: Walk 100 feet with assertive attitude explained in Step 5. Hit black dog with stroller 100 more times.
Step 7: Retrace steps back to front door.
Step 8: Hit black dog with stroller 110 more times.
Step 9: Leave black dog at home.
How To Walk One Dog with a Stroller
Step 1: Put mama's boy on a leash and position next to the stroller. (See Exhibit A.2)
Step 2: Walk 100 feet towards park; hit white dog with stroller 100 times.
Step 3: Shorten leash to 3 inches long, making it impossible for brain dead dogs to walk in front of the stroller while it is being pushed. (See Exhibit B.2)
Step 4: Walk 100 feet and nearly trip in disbelief that you managed to walk 100 feet without hitting a dog.
Step 5: Stop to chat with people who can't resist a new baby being walked in the park.
Step 6: Pry enormous white dog who vigilantly protects his family off of terrified person.
Step 7: Speed walk through park and avoid coming into contact with any further humans.
Step 8: Arrive home, vow never to walk the dogs again and take a nap.
43% of our family is comprised of canine members.
Since I haven't properly introduced everyone here on the blog yet, let me take a few minutes to do so.
I'll get the bad news over with first.
Ginger
Don't be fooled by her pathetic, forlorn 1,000-yard stare. This dog is the bane of our existence. Mainly because her natural state looks something more like this:
Why yes, that is a giant turd hanging out of her mouth; thank you for asking.
This turd burglar needs constant monitoring else you will find her with her head in the cat box or scavenging for delicacies outside. Hers, other dogs', she's not picky.
Apart from eating so much shit that she has put on about 10 pounds in the last week, she also tries to steal the other dogs' food while her bowl is full, freaks out to the point of major destruction on our house during thunderstorms (yes, we've tried everything...she is just a crazy old dog that will not be comforted by drugs, weird thunderstorm blankets or being hit in the head repeatedly with a brick), is a bottomless pit of need and is a general butt hole--so at least she has that going for her.
But like that weird uncle you have, she's family and we're stuck with her until the bitter end. She's about 14 years old and will outlive everyone in the family just to spite us all. She is that hateful.
Let's move on.
Baxter
Baxter is the golden child who can do no wrong. Look, we know parents aren't supposed to have favorites, but it's hard not to when you have a Baxter in your midst.
Baxter is the king of cuddles. If cuddling was an Olympic sport he would be the undisputed gold medal champion.
Baxter is a live and let live kind of guy whose reasons for existence include playing ball, swimming in lakes and did I mention the cuddling?
Finally to round out the dog troop, we have Bear:
Bear is a mama's boy.
Bear's main contribution to this family is barking.
Everyone asks how the dogs have handled having The Bean added to our family. For the most part, the dogs have been wildly unimpressed with The Bean's arrival.
Ginger continues to eat poop with wild abandon. We must throw all of the poopy diapers into a lidded garbage can and get it out of the house as quickly as possible lest we add another flavor to her culinary poop tour.
Baxter has always been a sensitive guy. He was the hardest hit by The Bean's arrival since we cannot shower him with love and affection 24 hours a day like he was accustomed to receiving. The arrival of The Bean has turned him into a petulant teenager because he's not getting all the attention.
And Bear still barks.
We attempted a group outing one day while I was in the throes of a guilt-ridden hormonal meltdown. The dogs hadn't been on a proper walk since The Bean had come home and their antsy following me from room to room was driving me up the wall.
In an effort to not kill everyone in the house, I packed us up. Three dogs on leashes, one Bean in a stroller and me in my sneakers.
We made it three feet from the front door.
In that time, I had hit each of the dogs twice with the stroller. The leashes were wrapped around the wheels of the stroller making it impossible to move forward. And I was stuck between the leashes and the stroller.
How To Walk Three Dogs with a Stroller
Step 1: Leave all nasty shit-eaters at home.
How To Walk Two Dogs with a Stroller
Step 1: Place a leash in each hand and position one dog on each side of the stroller. (see Exhibit A)
Step 2: Take one step and be unable to progress further. (See Exhibit B)
Step 3: Untangle leashes, self and stroller and reposition as explained in Step 1.
Step 4: Take four steps and crash stroller into black dog at least 4 times.
Step 5: Be assertive and refuse to stop walking just because black dog cannot figure out how to get out of the way of the stroller. Dogs are smart; he will learn to stay on one side of the stroller and not directly in front of it.
Step 6: Walk 100 feet with assertive attitude explained in Step 5. Hit black dog with stroller 100 more times.
Step 7: Retrace steps back to front door.
Step 8: Hit black dog with stroller 110 more times.
Step 9: Leave black dog at home.
How To Walk One Dog with a Stroller
Step 1: Put mama's boy on a leash and position next to the stroller. (See Exhibit A.2)
Step 2: Walk 100 feet towards park; hit white dog with stroller 100 times.
Step 3: Shorten leash to 3 inches long, making it impossible for brain dead dogs to walk in front of the stroller while it is being pushed. (See Exhibit B.2)
Step 4: Walk 100 feet and nearly trip in disbelief that you managed to walk 100 feet without hitting a dog.
Step 5: Stop to chat with people who can't resist a new baby being walked in the park.
Step 6: Pry enormous white dog who vigilantly protects his family off of terrified person.
Step 7: Speed walk through park and avoid coming into contact with any further humans.
Step 8: Arrive home, vow never to walk the dogs again and take a nap.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Reset
When you wake up to discover the dog has thrown up all over the WHITE SHAG carpeting because she ate too many turds, it's probably best to just go back to bed and wait for tomorrow.
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