ReadLarryPowell.com: A holiday report…

ReadLarryPowell.com: Weekend updates, challenges…

ReadLarryPowell.com: Puppies, dog ears, fluffy cat, etc.

As you all know, I’m a complete dog nut…and I read ReadLarryPowell.com (say that three times fast) religiously, and sit here with a lump in my throat and a pit-feeling in my stomach that I can’t take every one of the animals featured in this blog and bring them to our wonderful doggie home.

But, what I have decided to do is cross-post Mr. Powell’s posts since many people in the DFW area aren’t aware of his blog or his never-ending pursuits.

So…be on the lookout. And if you can, give a homeless pet a home. They really do appreciate it.

Hi everyone. This is Daisy, text-blogging from the iPawPhone. I just wanted to let you know that today, I became famous! Momma sent a picture of me sleeping to Larry Powell for his “Let Sleeping Dogs Lie and Napping Cats Nap” series, and he picked me for this weekend! I am still not sure how she got that picture.

Of course, now that the writer’s strike is almost over…I can go back to being awake for the next nine years.

Cookie’s really cranky that I got onto the Internets before her.

Cookie and Daisy got a box of Kung Fu Fido doggie fortune cookies from CU’s sister this Christmas and - no joke - the things look exactly like fortune cookies. I wondered if they tasted any better than the cookie tripe we generally get from our local Chinese restaurant, but when I saw the “made with real chicken liver!” sticker on the box, I took a pass on the taste test.

Regardless, the dogs loved them - and the cookies actually come with real fortunes. They’re really quite insightful:

• “The hardest thing in the world to understand is the tax code and any word other than “sit”.
• Confucius say, dog house-broken? Hire carpenter.

The best part? Think about it…someone actually has to sit at a desk and come up with these fortunes. How do I score that gig?

Thank you for nearly nine years of smiles and schloppy schnoozer kisses…enjoy the chewbone and the new squeak toy!

Love,
Momma, Daddy and - hesitantly, Cookie

Seriously, now. Ya’ll might have cute kids…but my dogs are just about the cutest things out there. They look mighty good for their age, don’t they?

I just wish we could somehow figure out how to get Daisy to look less petrified when taking pictures of her. Her head is raised, her ears are down…you’d think we had the camera flash attached to her toenails or something.

BTW - Cookie turned 11 last weekend, and now she just won’t let up on me…wants me to get her a training bra and thinks she should be able to go out on group dates with boys. Right, like that’ll happen.

My Marketing class team is now a team of three…the castaway has been voted off the island. I’ll be honest…it wasn’t an easy decision to offload him, but his laundry list of offenses, his lack of remorse or concern regarding the work he blatantly plagiarized and lack of concern about the sling in which he theoretically could have put our collective ass…well, maybe it was an easy decision.

So last night, we had our first post-Tribal Council meeting. I’m not sure if we’re working more collaboratively as a team because our 4th wheel is gone, or if we’re working more collaboratively because coming together multiple times over the past six days to decide his fate bonded all of us.

Tonight’s Thursday, right? Geez, this week is flying by. CU and I are taking Cookie to the vet this afternoon for her quarterly checkup, which consists of x-rays, blood work and a blood pressure check. It’s always fun going to the vet. Whenever Dr. Cinclair speaks, Cookie barks at him. Love that dog.

Mama Snark is coming down to house/dog sit on the front end of our trip to Hawaii, so CU and I are working feverishly to fix all the things in our house which could be potentially embarrassing…like this sad excuse for an “elevated dog feeder”.

There’s something about setting food & water bowls atop a random assortment of cookbooks that just screams Nouveau Trash Alert! I’ll take my dog to a specialist who only comes to Dallas once a month to have an EKG done…but I make her eat her food on top of an outdated George Stella cookbook. Thank God she’s blind. And, please don’t tell Martha and Paula. I don’t need the cookbook police showing up on my doorstep. I believe this little gem is also in the pile somewhere.

So I sit down at my trusty laptop and begin my Big Search Online for the ultimate raised doggie bowl feeder/thingiemajigger. Previous visits to PetSmart and Petco have been fruitless, as they assume all dogs are at least 12″ tall…same for IKEA…so I have to use my advanced search powers.

First stop? Why, Blingo of course…where I quickly locate this item, which is the perfect height but…um…NINETY SIX DOLLARS? I refuse to buy a feeder that costs roughly the same as a visit to the vet. Next.

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For every boo, I need a yay…PetCareRx has become my new favorite online merchant. Cookie’s drug cocktail to keep her heart disease/failure manageable would run me about $60 every 45-60 days if purchased from my vet’s office. With PetCareRx though, I get them for literally, a quarter of the cost. Same drugs…and I don’t even have to drive to my vet’s office to pick them up…they’re delivered right to my door!

/infomercial

Seriously though, with the vent about Vonage below…I had to share a good customer service experience with ya’ll. Hopefully your furbabies won’t ever need maintenance medication, but if they do…check out PetCareRx. I can even get American AAdvantage miles, too!

This has not been a paid advertisement.

I’m so glad we’re cutting Daisy’s beard shorter now…she looks a little silly in this photo.

I’d also like to point out that it’s 2 PM…and we haven’t had a drop of rain today…yet. Dare I mention it’s actually…sort of…sunny outside? Well, maybe not sunny…but it’s really bright. I’m sure there’s sun beyond the clouds.

Off the subject, I’m not quite sure why the CSS for this theme made everything in italics appear in bold red. When I get around to turning the Mac back on tomorrow morning, I will need to fix that…for it is rather annoying.

Anyhoo…in no particular order, here’s what else is going on…

1. It’s still raining here. Three weeks, now…I think…of rainy days. For those of you new to the game, It’s JULY IN TEXAS, and we’ve only turned on our sprinkler system once in the last six weeks. ONCE. By the way, thank you to the City of Allen for allowing us to water twice a week as of yesterday. I’m sure that will come in handy when monsoon season ends in August.

2. Our adorable little nephew Sam will be turn the big O-N-E in a couple of weeks, and Auntie Snarkwife and Uncle Capt. UberHusband have decided to make the trek to NC to see the kin and give the little kid a gift he surely doesn’t need.

3. I’m waiting for Apple to load some sort of iChat/IM application into the iPhone, then I am iBuying it.

4. 65 days until we leave for Hawaii although, ironically, it’s felt like Hawaii here for the last month, minus the ocean and aloha spirit.

5. Daisy’s allergies seem to have resolved themselves…looks as if her incessant paw chewing was caused by an unfortunate infection in her paws, which 30 days of antibiotics have cleared up. Go Schnoozer!

6. Cookie’s headed into the cardiologist on Thursday, and hopefully we’ll get a better prognosis for her. It’s strange to talk about prognoses (prognosisises?) when she seems healthier and happier than ever, but I also have to remember she’s on a pretty powerful drug cocktail so…there you have it.

7. CU and I re-landscaped our front yard, but there were some things the landscapers screwed up, so we’ve been waiting…two weeks now for them to be unscrewed-up. Problem? It’s been pouring rain every day, which suffice it to say, puts a hamper on people coming out and working in the yard. Pictures forthcoming…again, likely, after monsoon season ends.

And…that’s about it. I’ll try to be better about checking in…and I need to catch up with everyone on Big Love, Entourage and Army Wives! Four more weeks until Org Behavior is done, and I just need to crank out one more project (individual, thank God) and then I’m free for THREE WHOLE WEEKS!

Once again, for the 32nd consecutive season…the team I want to win The Amazing Race doesn’t win. AARGH! CU and I have been gunning for KandyDust to win since, oh, episode three or four…but victory was not to be theirs last night. I would have preferred Charla and Mirna win if KandyDust wasn’t going to do it…but Eric and Danielle? Really?

As usual, the high point of the episode for me was when they went to Hawaii, because CU and I like to incorporate visiting Amazing Task Locations during our trips there. The only location on Oahu this time though, was the Hamaka Air Hangar, and we went there back in February of ‘05. Who knows, maybe this next trip we’ll helicopter over to Lanai.

In other weekend news…we took Cookie back to the vet on Friday, because we stopped her meds on Wednesday and she coughed all night Thursday. Our vet confirmed what we already knew really, that Cookie’s in the beginning (we hope) stages of heart failure. What this means is we keep her on the meds (enalapril and furosemide), twice a day, for the rest of her life. I am truly amazed at the power of medications - she hasn’t coughed, her heart and breathing rates are where they should be (How did I not know what was “normal” for the first ten years of her life?) and, the best part? She’s back on puppy food. Cookie’s always been skinny but in the last six months or so, she’s gotten downright bony.

What else…school started over the weekend. What they say about online classes is true…you definitely spend more time working on them, if for no other reason than you’re pretty much forced to interact with your fellow classmates via threaded discussions. I probably learned more about my 20 classmates in the last two days than I did about any of my fellow classmates in my undergrad classes.

But, Org Behavior is going to be a kick. I really enjoy analyzing people and their behaviors and discussing what facilitates positive outputs…and God knows I have enough case studies at my company…it’s like Christmas in May!

Listen to me…”facilitates positive outputs.” Sigh. I can’t write things like that without thinking of my high school English teachers, who used to get on me for overuse of “flowery” language.

I suppose we should really watch ourselves…don’t want to go to jail or anything.

Okay…I didn’t pay much attention last night during American Idol. CU and I were busy updating my resume for my UoD application…and listening to Cookie cough. Seems the poodle has been stricken by the demon illness of little dogs…a collapsing trachea. Sigh…yeah, that’s it’s own barrel of laughs. For a dog whose life mission it has been to kick ass now and ask questions later, it’s very frustrating to see her being knocked around by this. I’m taking her back in to the vet today, as she seems to have gotten worse since we put her on the meds…so it’s time for x-rays to see what we’re officially dealing with.

5:11 PM Update: It’s not a collapsed trachea, it’s fluid in her lungs…which if we can’t clear it out, will likely indicate she’s at the beginning stages of heart disease. Damn poodle. She’s now on FOUR meds, so…say a doggie prayer everything clears out and the coughing subsides. I’m not ready to pass over into that stage of her life, yet.

Back to American Idol…I did see Sanjaya’s kinda freaky (although, THANK YOU SANJAYA for not doing your hair Bonnie Raitt-style) version of “Something To Talk About”, and LaKisha’s very weird rendition of “Jesus Take The Wheel” and…Chris singing, again, in the key of Chris.

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**PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT FROM CASA DE SNARK**

With Easter upon us, it’s likely many of our homes will be filled with chocolate. KEEP ALL CHOCOLATE WELL OUT OF REACH OF YOUR DOGS!

Last night, I was wondering where Cookie was when I heard Daisy rustling around in my office…sniffing, what I quickly found out, were the remains of a 3.5 oz. Lindt dark chocolate bunny, meant for CU’s Easter basket. There goes that surprise.

Unfortunately, it was Cookie…not Daisy, who had eaten the entire thing. She’s not a very clean eater, and the chocolate breath and smeared goo all over her mouth gave her away.

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Let the dogs entertain you. I swear, I’d rather be blogging about the past two evenings’ worth of TV…but…what do you do.

I’m getting to be as bad as you people with kids, what with the proliferation of doggie videos. At least they don’t play soccer…or do karate…or whatever it is kids do these days.

And…oodles of thanks to Ali, for showing me how I can display these videos via Photobucket, instead of turning them loose on the YouTubers.

We think she just has really bad allergies, although we aren’t sure to what she’s specifically allergic. I read somewhere today that it’s excessive protein in the saliva (due to allergies) which causes the paw fur to stain. Nice, huh? I gave her half a Benadryl, then valiantly tried to soak her paws in water with epsom salts for five minutes. I didn’t do too badly…had to use the sink in the bathroom and got quite wet in the process.

But, she’s conked out now, next to my desk. That’s her above, glaring at me after I released her from the Sink Monster.

After the jump, there’s another photo of Cookie lounging on the towel I used to dry Daisy’s paws, then dumped on the floor in my office. Weird dogs.
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Watch Cookie dig through CU’s bag…

And holy moley…I totally forgot The Amazing Race was on tonight. Oopsie. Guess I’ll be watching that tomorrow morning.

He calls me this morning, and it’s like he’s in a movie. I hear people speaking French in the background, I hear police cars in the distance, and he tells me he’s walking past Cartier, and would I like anything? No thanks.

Capt. UberHusband: So, I think I figured out what Cookie would want if she came to Paris
Snarkwife: What’s that?
Capt. UberHusband: A Hermes dog collar
Snarkwife: Seriously?
Capt. UberHusband: Yeah
Snarkwife: How much are they?
Capt. UberHusband: Well, they don’t make one in Cookie’s size
Snarkwife: You’re joking…in Paris, Hermes doesn’t make a collar small enough to fit a toy poodle?
Capt. UberHusband: No…Pomeranians are about as small as they’ll fit, apparently.
Snarkwife: So how much are they?
Capt. UberHusband: Well, they vary from 210 to 510 Euros.

Looks like they’ll all be heading back in a couple of months to officially sign some project documents…and I may just have to go. Still probably won’t get anything from Cartier, though.

Out of all the things CU has done, and the things he’s seen this week in between his work obligations, I’m most bummed he’ll be able to see our old friend Troy tonight, and I won’t. Troy and I worked together many years ago, and spent quite a bit of time together before I met CU. We weren’t dating or anything…he was just a fun guy friend to hang out with and watch Dallas Stars games and see movies like American Pie. We haven’t seen him since he decided to chuck living in America and work for the foreign service. His latest post is Paris. Rough gig.

After I finished my last post, I decided to take a break and take Miss Daisy out for a walk. Seems like I can’t take that poor dog for a walk without some sort of disaster happening…no wonder she gets all excited when I pull out the leash, then turns into psycho dog once she actually figures out what we’re doing.

Long-time readers will remember what happened back in February of ‘05…I tripped, fell…and Daisy went running into the street while dumbass drivers honked and whizzed around her. That’ll scar her (and me, literally) for awhile.

There’s a house about a half block away from us…they have this dog…we’ll call her Cujo. She’s always running around the neighborhood, and I’ve called both animal control and our homeowner’s association because her clueless owner just doesn’t get it. A couple of years ago, I was out one evening walking both dogs…and Cujo came after us.

I scooped up both Cookie and Daisy (that was fun)…and then I went and pounded on the owner’s front door. She pooh-pooh’d the whole situation…”Oh, Cujo doesn’t bite.” “Yeah, well, Cookie does.” I believe I also told her to get her act together because I saw her dog running around all the time. I called both animal control and our homeowner’s association that day…don’t know what happened, but at least I felt like I was protecting myself.

So I take her out today - and I walk past this same house. I hear the dogs literally, climbing the windows but…they’re inside so I don’t care how much they’re flipping out.

All of a sudden…out of freaking NOWHERE come Cujo and a big black cocker spaniel running straight at us. I scoop Daisy up as fast as I can and the damn dogs are jumping on us and barking. I successfully extricate myself and Daisy from the dogs (who have quite the vertical leap), go up to the house and POUND on the front door for about ten seconds until someone answers. Yay…it’s Clueless Woman. That’s the great thing about my neighborhood…generally, someone’s at home at every house during the day.

Snarkwife: HEY…YOUR DOGS JUST ATTACKED ME AND MY DOG.
Clueless Woman: I’m on a conference call.

Seriously?

Snarkwife: I don’t give a shit if you’re giving birth, your dogs just attacked us.

She just stands there…kind of looking around…like she’s afraid I’m making a scene.

Snarkwife: You know, I’d like to be able to walk around my neighborhood without the fear of being attacked by your dogs.
Clueless Woman: This has happened before?
Snarkwife: Duh - uh…yeah! And I see that one {pointing at the brown dog} out running around all the time. We’ve spoken before, and I’ve told you this before.
Clueless Woman: Well, I haven’t been here for the last six months.

At that point, I would have liked to have kneeled down and just pounded my head into her front sidewalk. How many people confront her about her dogs…so many that she can’t remember the last time we spoke? I remember every conversation I have on my front sidewalk…and would certainly remember the face of someone my dogs chased down the street. Maybe she got a lobotomy six months ago. Who knows.

Snarkwife {pointing to the end of the street}: That dog - her name is Cujo, right?
Clueless Woman: Uh huh.
Snarkwife: Then we’ve spoken. Get it together…and I’m reporting you to the homeowner’s association and animal control…again. Seems like the three times a year I walk my dogs, I get attacked by your dogs.

And with that, I have to carry Daisy the rest of the way home because Cujo is still wandering the streets. No wonder Daisy we hates going on walks.

Because I know ya’ll were curious…what was in that mysterious package from Mom…

She’s still at it…

We had some fun holiday drama last night here at Casa de Snark. Let me preface this by saying, Cookie and Daisy love, love, love my mom…Cookie, especially. My mom came down to Sacramento to visit me the day after I got Cookie (10 years and 7 days ago), so it would seem likely she’d have a pretty strong bond with her.

They spent lots of time with my mom when she lived here in Dallas for a few years, and now we only see Mom a couple times a year, but both dogs get eerily excited and giddy and they pace and growl and their ears perk up when I say the word, “Grandma.”

Last night, at…ahem…7:40 p.m., the UPS guy showed up to deliver Package 1 of 2 from my mom, with Christmas presents. We’re assuming Package 2 of 2 is CU’s box…since the first one had stuff for the dogs and three gifts for me…CU wasn’t that naughty this past year. Anyhoo, I unpacked the gifts and put them under the tree. Immediately, both Cookie and Daisy began sniffing one gift in particular like drug dogs in Miami who had hit the Colombian mother lode. Obviously, the paper must have smelled like Mom.

“Awww, how cute…I should get a video of this to send to Mom…would probably make her cry,” I said. Not more than sixty seconds after I said that, a fight broke out between Cookie and Daisy. A fight. Imagine the NBA brawl from last week…that’s pretty close to the level we had to break up. I almost started laughing though, when CU had contained Cookie, because her mouth was still going full-tilt, with full toothitude. I’m sure she was still growling smack at Daisy with some sort of “Bring it on!” action.

Speaking of full toothitude, CU’s arm came between Cookie and, I assume, what she thought was Daisy. You know those photos when people are bitten by a snake, and you see four distinct tooth marks? This was better, because there were only three…Cookie’s not quite as fierce since she had one of her fangs removed a couple of years ago.

After the altercation, we calmed everyone down…distracted them for a few minutes, then Cookie decided she was going to break Grandma out of Gift Jail. She kept scratching at the gift…and scratching…and scratching…willing us to release Grandma so she could kiss her to death. I finally did catch it on video, while talking to Mom and regaling her with stories about how her granddogs got into a raging pawfight over her.

Silly dogs. After about three more minutes of scratching, we finally distracted Cookie for good with a doggie treat. Food always trumps Grandma.

We’re replacing all of the baseboards in our house…well, all of them except for the ones in the master bathroom water closet. CU forgot about that “room” when measuring everything out.

It’s so much fun tackling “home improvement” projects together, but probably rather boring for others because we don’t fight or snip or nag at each other. There’s no drama…which would make for compelling television, but would likely bring all of our projects in late and over budget.

Used to be, I’d send pictures to my mom of our progress on various projects, and she’d always comment on what a great job CU did on this or on that. Finally one day I said, “You know Mom, I work, too. I don’t just stand around and supervise…ha ha.” Turns out, since all of the pictures were usually of CU, she figured he did all the work. In reality, he just never took any pictures of me doing work. So, here I am, busting out one of the baseboards in our bathroom.

I also moved all of the old baseboards (nails and all, yay!) and relocated them to the back of the Jeep so we could haul them to the dump today…is that the PC word, or should I be saying “community waste disposal facility”? He installs, I clean up.

The best part? We had the standard contractors’ lunch yesterday of McDonalds, although we omitted eating it under the shady tree in front of the house. We also skipped the blaring mariachi music, but we did drink beer. Go us.

We also had help from the dogs, and when we started getting tired…then started getting silly…we tried to torture Cookie.

Well, this is it. When I start paying, I start staying.

The site will look weird for a bit, whilst I play with themes and widgets and try to remember how all of this works again.

On the domestic front, today is Cookie’s 10th birthday. I remember my 10th birthday well…had a slumber party with all of my little girlfriends and a Miss Piggy theme. After all, it was 1981.

25 years later, the birthday girl gets her own video on You Tube.

What does it say about me when I check on CU’s delayed flight, and when the status is “Call Airline”, I assume the plane has crashed?

So what do I do, I call American Airlines. I talked to a friendly IVR voice, who was very pleasant even though she had difficulty understanding CU’s flight number. Eventually, she was able to ascertain that the plane had left the gate, but had not yet taken off.

For as much as I bitch and complain about “technology” basically tethering me to my job 24/7 and how instant messenger has evolved into a creepy time-clock of sorts, recent innovations in technology allowed me to send an email to CU’s Blackberry, letting him know that I’m sorry, and sitting on the tarmac is a sucky way to spend a morning. Technology also allowed him to call me from the plane to tell me they’re having mechanical problems, and he’s grateful he didn’t have any meetings this afternoon at his final destination.

In other news, Fraidy Cat Daisy is still hiding under the bed from the thunderstorms earlier today. I keep trying to tell her the Thunder Monster is not going to kick down the front door and torture her, but I don’t think she’s buying it.

On an unrelated note, I think I’ve figured out why Studio 60 On The Sunset Strip’s ratings are dropping every week. Sure, they’re on up against CSI: Miami, but not everyone watches that show. Or at least, I don’t.

It’s Harriet…she sucks the life out of me, and I can’t handle her angst. I get that most dramas need some sort of sexual and/or romantic tension but…in my totally unprofessional opinion…this one doesn’t. She wants her man back, no she doesn’t, she wants closure…no wait, she wants to smooch a baseball player in exchange for an autographed bat…she’s a conservative Christian, but is conflicted because she works in the liberal world of television! Please…someone shoot me…or better yet, shoot her.  Do it during News 60 and watch Jack pee his pants when the ratings come in.

In all honestly, it’s during Harriet’s scenes when CU and I either pick up the kitchen or go to the bathroom or turn down the bed, or in last night’s case, pour ourselves another glass of wine. She had one good scene last week…and one good line:

When asked for comment, the bear said, “RRRRAWWWWR”.

Nothing beats a challenging day at work quite like an IM session with a co-worker you’ve known for nearly ten years.

Co-worker: can we add an autologin feature (ie. remember me) for non-customers that hit this from the outside?
Snarkwife: yes - with a big, fat note telling folks that if they clear their cookies, that auto-login will be cleared as well! Co-worker: lol
Co-worker: one of the issues i wanted originally - they instead decided to take the order WITHOUT logging in - fine, but then force them to log in at the end. I’d rather it “just remember”
Snarkwife: that’s cookie-dependent, though
Co-worker: yes
Snarkwife: how ironic…Cookie just brought her Cookie Monster toy in here to my office
Snarkwife: must have heard me type “cookie”
Co-worker: lol
Co-worker: unless you’re typing with your out loud voice

There comes a point in every dog owner’s life when their dog begins advancing in age, and said owner starts to walk that delicate fine line between awareness and paranoia.

My friends, I am walking that line.

Cookie is a very predictable little dog. Her behavior is fairly regular and there are several things she’ll never pass up…treats, cheese, peanut butter and tummy rubs.

When I got back from the gym this morning, I went to spring the dogs from their kennels and as usual, Daisy bounded out tripping over herself and very excited to go outside. Cookie stumbled out of her kennel like a drunk and proceeded to bump into everything in her path between the kennel and the grass outside. Then, she stumbled her way back into the house. Now to be fair, I was moving in a similar fashion when I got up this morning (minus the “grass outside” part), so I sort of thought she was just having a tough time waking up…or I woke her up in the middle of REM sleep.

Anyway, her lethargic lack of coordination was nothing compared to the horror I experienced next…she…refused a treat. I kid you not. Not only did she refuse a treat, she turned her head away from cheese and peanut butter. The trifecta denied, I put her in a blanket on my bed and proceeded to take a shower. She stood solid as a statue and shook…and was still doing that when I got out of the shower. Her ears were droopy and Daisy wouldn’t quit sniffing her.

A little more concerned, I got dressed, threw my hair in a ponytail, put Cookie in her pink foofoo bed and surfed the internet to see if I could diagnose my poodle. Sadly, this article was of no help.

After my futile Blingo efforts, I shot my boss an IM that I was taking Cookie to the vet. When I came back out into the living room, Cookie was nowhere to be found. Turns out, she had decided to go sit under the table in the breakfast nook. Why, I have no idea. She never sits there.

Short story long, I took her to the vet, they poked and prodded and took her temperature. They gave her a bowl of chicken & rice soft dog food and she ate it all in fifteen seconds. Her ears were perky and she was acting as though the previous 2 1/2 hours never happened.

I felt like a fool.

Isn’t that always par for the course? Your teeth hurt…until you sit down in the dentist’s chair. Your car makes a weird clanging noise until the Service Advisor takes it for a spin around the block. Your dog exhibits bizarre behavior until the vet walks into the exam room.

By the way Cookie, thanks for the fire drill this morning. While I was wringing my hands at the vet hoping you were okay, I missed my opportunity to get great tickets to see Faith Hill & Tim McGraw this July with your daddy.

Grrrrr.

p>Sandy wanted to see more doggie pictures…so here you go…LOL!

Unfortunately, Daisy had her ears down and looked all sad and depressed all weekend so I couldn’t get anything good of her. I’ll need to talk to her about that.

Clickify the pictures to see the full glory of Frick and Frack. I can’t believe Cookie is going to be nine years old in just four short months.

Must…resist…urge…to…get…another…dog…when…UberHusband…leaves.

Must. Resist.

On Saturday, the UberHusband and I tackled traditional roles with him out hacking up the evil fountain grass in the backyard and trimming back trees and shrubs while I stayed inside and cleaned the house.

He comes in the back door and tells me he’s found a baby bunny hiding in our fence posts and that it was probably burrowing in the fountain grass because it was so thick and nothing would be able to get to it. So of course, Crazy UberHusband With The Power Garden Tools scared the little thing out of it’s shelter. This lit up a light bulb in my brain, because Daisy went all apeshit Friday night chasing something over in that area…it made sense.

He went and got it and it was so tiny…barely fit into the palm of his hand. It’s eyes were open so it wasn’t a newborn but there also wasn’t any evidence that a Momma Bunny had been around anytime recently.

We didn’t know what do to. We knew what we wanted to do, which was feed it (and love it…and name it George…) and have it spring to life and hop away to bunny freedom. I called our vet and talked to NaziReceptionist (she’s so cold, I swear) who talked to the vet, then came back and told us that the bunny was probably going to die and that we could bring it by and they’d euthanize it.

I think I yelped out something like, “So what do we do it, just wait for it to die?” because I wasn’t listening to anything she was saying if it didn’t involve bunny food and a long, happy life. She then suggested trying to give it some lettuce which I almost laughed at…it’s not like it’s a full-size bunny for cripe’s sake. We don’t think the little thing even had any teeth.

But, in the end, we took the bunny in to the vet. It’s in Bunny Heaven now, and…I’m okay with that. Well, I am now. This is why I didn’t post about what happened until today. It was sort of a bittersweet thirty minutes between when we found it and when we took it in to the vet. At least it wasn’t alone and cold…nothing should have to die that way.

About a year before I got Cookie, I adopted a puppy from a shelter…a sheltie mix I named Daisy. Yep…there was a Daisy before I got The Schnoozer. Long story short, she had parvo and I wound up having to euthanize her within a week of getting her. During that week though, we had her fostered 24/7 and were giving her subq fluids and trying to save a poor little life that hadn’t even been given a decent shot. But, sometimes you just can’t do anything. That was nine years ago, and now I understand the limitations and when you just need to accept what you can’t change.

But like I said…the bunny’s in Bunny Heaven where it can tease cats and never get caught and have unlimited access to whatever it wants to eat so, that makes me smile.

And if you don’t believe in Bunny Heaven, keep it to yourself. I don’t want to hear it.

It takes a lot for me to say that.

In an effort to get me out of the house and into the fresh air at least once a day, I have reintroduced the concept of daily walks for me and the dogs. They have different walking styles, so I need to take them out separately.

I took Daisy out first today and about 3/4 of the way through, I tripped on the sidewalk on one of those spots where one area is higher than the other. Of course, I plunge forward, slam my hands and elbow into the ground first and then my left knee went crashing into the sidewalk.

And…I let go of Daisy. She ran into the street.

We were walking along one of those neighborhood streets that has a posted speed limit of 30 MPH and is rather curvy, but clueless people carelessly speed through there anyway. I was scared shitless. Daisy’s never been in the road before. Ever. We’ve never let our dogs roam around and in six years, she’s never been disconnected from me when we’ve been out on a walk.

I didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know what to do. I called her. She stood there, frozen but was several hundred feet away from me and I was still getting my bearings straight after hitting the ground so hard.

Of course, some jackass mom with two kids in an SUV careens around the corner, I assume spots Daisy and then LAYS ON THE HORN so God forbid she doesn’t have to slow down. Nice lesson to teach your kids. This petrifies Daisy so she runs further away. Another car zips by before I put myself in the middle of the street with my hand up to stop traffic and get my dog.

The next car honked at me so I lowered four of my fingers.

I walked slowly towards Daisy and told her to sit. She did. Good doggie. I stepped on her leash and carried her the rest of the way home. She’s fine…was scared but is okay now. Me on the other hand…my right hand and left knee are all scraped up and bleeding and I’m still shaking. Ow.

The biggest casualty though, was my iPod. It looks about the same as my right hand, except with a nice big scratch right down the center of the LCD screen. Goddammit.

The moral of the story? Slow the hell down, people. And step outside of your bubble for half a second once in awhile to think about the other creatures in the world.

Come here Daisy…come back into the telecommuting cave with Momma.

You know, the UberHusband and I have worked hard over the last 10-15 years to get to the point we’re at right now. We’ve sacrificed and we’ve made certain decisions that have given us a comfortable lifestyle.

Think our dogs would appreciate that?

Nah….

So, I get out of the shower this morning and this is what I see to my left:

And then, to my right:

Get up, you two! There are bathrooms to clean and walls to paint. Hop to it!

Golden Retriever: The sun is shining, the day is young, we’ve got our whole lives ahead of us, and you’re inside worrying about a stupid burned out bulb?

Border Collie: Just one. And then I’ll replace any wiring that’s not up to code.

Dachshund: You know I can’t reach that stupid lamp!

Rottweiler: Make me.

Boxer: Who cares? I can still play with my squeaky toys in the dark.

Lab: Oh, me, me!!!!! Pleeeeeeeeeze let me change the light bulb! Can I? Can I? Huh? Huh? Huh? Can I? Pleeeeeeeeeze, please, please, please!

German Shepherd: I’ll change it as soon as I’ve led these people from the dark, check to make sure I haven’t missed any, and make just one more perimeter patrol to see that no one has tried to take advantage of the situation.

Jack Russell Terrier: I’ll just pop it in while I’m bouncing off the walls and furniture.

Old English Sheep Dog: Light bulb? I’m sorry, but I don’t see a light bulb!

Cocker Spaniel: Why change it? I can still pee on the carpet in the dark.

Chihuahua: Yo quiero Taco Bulb.

Pointer: I see it, there it is, there it is, right there…..

Greyhound: It isn’t moving. Who cares?

Australian Shepherd: First, I’ll put all the light bulbs in a little circle…

Poodle: I’ll just blow in the Border Collie’s ear and he’ll do it. By the time he finishes rewiring the house, my nails will be dry.

The Cat’s Answer: “Dogs do not change light bulbs. People change light bulbs. So, the real question is: How long will it be before I can expect some light, some dinner, and a massage?”

All of which proves, once again, that while dogs have masters, cats have staff.

For the pampered pooch…a Faberge egg bed.

Just think how great this would go with a Louis Vuitton dog collar! By the way, the lady at the Coach store should have just checked out eBay…they have a ton of ‘em.

In retrospect, I have a feeling Missus LaDeeDa was just trying to show off because you can also get LV doggie collars at eLuxury.com for $195, well below the $285 pricetag Missus LaDeeDa was throwing out for all mere mortals within earshot. Or…she has the hookup for the elite LV dog collars in the back of a pool hall somewhere.

Anyway…back to the egg bed…my favorite part of the description? “Not recommended for dogs that chew their beds.” Uhhh…ya think? Also not recommended for those considering filing for personal bankruptcy protection.

Best part? No wait list!

I picked Daisy up at PetsMart in Mesquite on January 23, 1999, but since she was nine weeks old when I sprung her from doggie jail, we estimate her birthday to be November 23, 1998.

Here she is the day after I got her, weighing in at a solid 9 lbs. What a doll.

Look what living the good life for six years has done to her:

Happy Birthday, cutie pie. Enjoy the squeak toy Daddy and I got you.

Today is Cookie’s birthday. She’s 8. I’m the worst doggie mom on Earth. Her AKC papers, hence her lifelong sense of entitlement, clearly state that her date of birth was October 27, 1996, but for some reason I’ve been celebrating it on the 26th of each October. Oopsie.

She got a new yellow, stuffed duck toy and some of my scrambled eggs for breakfast. Not much fuss this year…you know how it is as we chicks grow older. I don’t know which is more unnerving…the fact that I’ve had her for eight years or the fact that I was only 25 when I brought her home.

Anyway, here’s a photo of the little monster the day after I brought her home. Six weeks old. 2 1/2 pounds. Full set of needle-sharp puppy teeth. See those little stuffed animals under the Christmas tree in the background? Yeah, those lasted about a day.

In the five months (as of yesterday) since I’ve joined the ranks of the work-from-home brigade, I have developed a new appreciation for my two dogs. Sure, being at home with 2 dogs has its challenges, but come on, does anyone in the standard brick-and-mortar corporate environment come up to you while you’re tapping away on your keyboard and lick your leg? In a non-litigious manner, of course.

Daisy, my schnauzer mix, is an amazing mood barometer for me. If I am getting particularly tense…or cranky…or my voice gets a little too loud on the phone, she runs up to my chair with a droopy tail, jumps in my lap and gives me Big Daisy Eyes. I’m not sure if she’s afraid of me or if she’s trying to calm me down but either way, it works. If dogs can smell cancer, I don’t see why they couldn’t detect a significant increase in the blood flow to my brain. I definitely could have used Daisy at the beginning of the year at my old job.

A lot of the benefits of having pets when you’re working from home sound so simplistic…needing to take them outside a few times a day gets you out of your chair and outside as well. You don’t quite realize the magnitude of this until one day, you look up from your laptop and realize the 5 o’clock news is on and you’re still sitting in your pajamas.

I don’t think it would be quite as easy if Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum were still puppies who demanded 500% of my time, but now that they’re getting older, I get all of the perks and benefits. They come over and socialize when they want to and nap the other 23 hours and 45 minutes of the day. If I have a bad conference call, I can scratch Cookie’s tummy and put everything back into its proper perspective.

Neither Cookie nor Daisy is particularly motivated or equipped to provide any concrete service to me during the workday. The lack of opposable thumbs precludes performing any standard clerical duties such as filing, answering the phone or dropping off uber-husband’s dry cleaning. Cookie is blind, so picking up lunch for me at Jason’s Deli is out of the question. But, they both do a very effective job of protecting my workplace from immediate security threats such as the neighborhood stay-at-home-moms, the UPS driver and the ChemLawn guy. Can’t buy that kind of loyalty.

I have a toy poodle. Her name is Cookie and she’ll be 8 years old next month. When I got her on December 13, 1996 she was the tiniest little furball. She was feisty even as a 6-week old puppy but was just so adorable. I was in doggiemom nirvana.

Then, she learned how to bark.

I remember the day very clearly. I was watching an episode of The Simpsons and Lisa was ringing a doorbell over and over and over and over. By the third “over” Cookie caught on that it was a sound she disliked and she yipped. But, it was a cute puppy yip. Awww…my baby’s growing up. When it got to be too much, I’d just pull out the trusty squirt bottle but I swear, half the time she was egging me on to do it.

Then, she went blind.

Most people know the story of Cookie’s loss of eyesight but here’s the shortest version I can do…over Memorial Day weekend in 1998, Cookie developed cataracts literally overnight and went blind. No rhyme or reason to it. Then a few weeks later she developed uncontrollable glaucoma…so uncontrollable that my only two options were to have her eyes removed or I’d eventually have to put her to sleep. I voted for enucleation. Don’t feel sorry for her though, she won’t even acknowledge your pity.

That aside, I swear when she went blind she started to bark louder…like now that she can’t see, she has to really let us know that something is bothering her instead of looking at us with distressed dog eyes.

Now though, 6 years after her surgery, I think she barks loudly for the sheer sport of it. There’s a school bus that drives by our house every day at 11 a.m. She barks at that. The UPS guy comes by around 4 in the afternoon. Barks at that. Birds chirp, she barks. The front door creaks in the afternoon heat…yes, she barks at that too. She still barks when my husband comes home from work and he’s been coming through the door for five years. The squirt bottle now just seems cruel, since she doesn’t even see it coming. That, and somewhere between Puppy and Blind she learned to enjoy the taste of water on her nose fur.

Whatever you do, do not knock on our door or ring our doorbell. Doing so will cause Cookie to jump erratically from wherever she is and she’ll usually run smack into a wall because she reacted so fast she couldn’t figure out which way was which. What’s worse is that she then engages our other dog, Daisy in her barkfest and then all hell breaks loose and the two of them float off into some paranormal alternate dog reality. It’s really quite odd to watch. Even more odd for the Federal Express driver, I’d imagine.

I bought the Barker Breaker but it doesn’t seem to work on her. You can hold it right next to her ear and press the button and…nothing. Not even a flinch. Damn dog.

She’s also taken to pacing back and forth in front of our front door for hours on end. We let her out once to see what she’d do and she took off down the street, but we don’t know what she was going after. I just checked and yes, she’s in front of the door.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I love my poodle. She’s a highlight in my life and even now as I write this, she’s sitting in my lap (had to drag her away from the Homicidal Front Door) and being all cute and sweet. For now. Ahhhh…doggie parenthood.

The school bus will be by in four minutes.

CNN.com - Dogs attacked with fireworks - Jun 29, 2004

I really wish we could lock up people who do things like this and never let them out. They don’t deserve to walk around and enjoy freedom when they intentionally hurt helpless creatures like puppies. It would be great if they found the person responsible, but you know they probably won’t. Too bad.