The Rain Mower

I know I’ve said it before but I’ll say it again. I live in a nice neighbourhood but I have some odd neighbours.

Sometimes, I feel as though I’m acting like my grandmother because I like to stand at the window and watch what the neighbours are doing. It’s an inherited trait. My mother does it too. Whenever there’s any excitement or, even, something ‘different’ going on, we all go to the window and have a peer out to see what’s going on.

This morning, for example, I noticed the lady across the road was rearranging her rubbish bins. She was taking bags out of one dustbin and putting them in another. This may not seem too odd but she was doing it while the trash collectors were literally waiting to take them from her to empty. I couldn’t figure out why she was doing this. At first I thought she’d dropped something that she didn’t want to get thrown out with the trash but from my perspective, it simply looked like she was playing “Rearrange the Trash Bags.” What was even more strange is that in the end, the Rumpke dustman took both cans and emptied them into the back of the garbage truck which null and voided her rearranging.

I don’t know that lady very well. When I first moved in, she left me a note saying how she’d been friends with the old lady who sold me my house and that she’d love to meet me. We did finally meet when she came over and made a point of telling me how half the plants in my garden had been transplanted from hers. She was nice but aside from her taking me to her church once, she’s pretty much avoided me ever since. I think this may have to do with the fact that I came home one day shortly after the church outing and discovered a neighbour had kindly unlocked my front door to put a package from UPS inside for me. Since I don’t like the idea of strangers having a key to my house, I changed the lock. I think it was Trash Rearranging Lady. I probably offended her. I’m not terribly upset about it, honestly.

The other odd occurrence last night was Dog Whisperer. He truly baffled me.

You see, when I got home from work last night, I decided to take advantage of the fact it wasn’t raining in order to cut my lawn. Lately, it’s been raining a lot and my lawn had become very unruly. I managed to get my lawn mowed just as thunder began to rumble in the sky.

Just as I finished mowing and was pushing my lawnmower back into the shed, I heard a lawnmower start up next door. Dog Whisperer was mowing his front lawn.

Since it was clearly going to rain, I thought that it might have been wiser to wait but, well, sometimes, I guess the urge to mow the lawn is strong. I did have a rather silly minor moment of guilt in wondering if, in my efforts to make my front lawn look nice, I’d made his lawn look even longer and ugly and so he had to go even it up in order to make it match the cut of my grass. We do have a shared strip that runs between our houses. I cut one side, he cuts the other. It makes it pretty obvious when one lawn has been mowed and the other hasn’t.

Of course, I realized my guilt was rather silly since it wouldn’t be the first time our lawns didn’t match and, really, I’m quite sure it had nothing to do with his sudden urgency to mow.

I left him to it and decided to attempt to grill the steak for my tacos quickly before the rain started to come down. By this time, Dog Whisperer had moved to his back yard. I had just pulled the steak off the grill and was trying to lightly grill the tortillas before it started to pour. Quickly, I shut the grill off, sheltered my food and went inside.

Dog Whisperer continued to mow. As I sat down to eat my dinner, the rain started to really come down. And yet, I could still hear the thrum of the lawnmower in Dog Whisperer’s yard. He was determined to mow, no matter what.

As I continued to eat, the rain got harder. It was that really, really heavy type of rain that actually bounces up again after it hits the pavement because of the force at which it is hitting. It’s the type of rain that stings and soaks you in less than 10 seconds.

And yet….the mowing continued. I got up to make sure Dog Whisperer hadn’t had a horrible mowing accident in which he slipped on the wet grass and managed to mow himself in half. I realize that this is an impossibility because you need to be holding the bar thing on the handle to keep the mower going and as soon as you release it, the mower dies. However, I have a dark imagination and I was concerned anyway.

Nope. He was still upright and mowing. He was soaked to the skin. He was hunched over. The rain was coming down so hard it couldn’t have been easy to see and yet….he didn’t give up.

I did worry a little about his mower. I know they’re waterproof to some degree but when it’s raining that hard, surely the water can’t be good for it. Also, wet grass is hard to cut because it clings and the suction of the mulching function causes the grass to clog up. In addition, it was lightning. Mowing the grass in a thunderstorm didn’t strike me as…sensible, per se. Finally, wet grass is slippery and I was a wee bit concerned that he might slip and accidentally cut off his foot. Hey, that one could actually happen.

Wet grass or no, he kept going.

I should commend his determination. I mean, he’s not a quitter. It’s just that…well….truth be told, it seemed a little daft. I couldn’t figure out why he was still going. I understand wanting to finish something up but if it had been me, I would have stopped the mower and waited out the rain.

Well, actually, if it had been me, I wouldn’t have started mowing after it was clearly starting to storm. When I did mow my lawn, the clouds were starting to roll in but it was clear that I had enough time.

Yet even though the rain came down with solid force and the world was soaking wet, Dog Whisperer was the Little Mower that Could. He didn’t give up. He kept mowing. When he wheeled his mower into the shed, he was so wet, I knew he was squelching. He’d abandoned his white t-shirt mid-mow and was mowing bare chested. If it had been ridiculously hot and he wanted to cool down, it might have made sense but, alas, it was actually quite chilly with the rain.

Still, he got his lawn mown and I guess that was important to him. I did notice today that his diagonal lines weren’t quite as straight as usual and were even a little wavery in patches but I suppose when the rain is coming down so hard that you can’t see, that’s bound to happen.

I admit, I probably shouldn’t have been quite so nosy but I was both fascinated and surprised at his dedication to his mowing. I’m quite glad he didn’t get struck by lightning. I’m also glad he didn’t mow over his foot. I am, however, quite baffled about his lawn mowing obsession. Perhaps all will reveal itself in time. Maybe he’s having a garden party directly after work tonight and it was the only mowing time he had. Of course, after the rain stopped last night probably would have been smarter, but what do I know?

Ah well, I’m sure he has his reasons and I’m sure I’ll never learn them. I suppose I could ask but, well, that might reveal me to be a nosy neighbour. It’s one thing to be a nosy neighbour and another thing to have people know you’re one.

And I’d rather do my lurking in secret. You learn more about your neighbours that way. Or, at least, you can watch them do some odd things.

Happy Friday!

The Penalty of Kindness

So, yesterday, I blogged about feeling slightly guilty for not mowing Mr. Enormous Trousers’ yard for him and I mentioned that I tend to get taken advantage of for being nice.

I think if I’m going to put that out on the blogosphere, I really should stick by my decision to stop being quite so nice because, well, it happened again last night.

You see, when I got home from work yesterday, I noticed two things. One, Son of Dog Whisperer was running around in the street in front of his house clad only in a pair of swimming trunks and two) he’d set up a lemonade stand with two of his friends from down the street.

The swimming trunks thing wasn’t terribly surprising because it was hot although since there’s no pool too close by and he doesn’t have a hose in his garden, it seemed like an interesting choice of attire but I attributed it to the fact that it was hot. Also, I’d much rather have Son of Dog Whisperer running around without a shirt than Dog Whisperer himself because, well, let’s just say that Dog Whisperer doesn’t exactly have the sort of naked chest you want to see, well, naked.

The lemonade stand was something different. Son of Dog Whisperer had taken his little table and chair from inside the house and set it up outside with a Tupperware pitcher full of lemonade.

Normally, I walk the dogs when I get home but since it’s been so hot, muggy and sticky outside, I was already contemplating not walking them. Rory has taken to just sitting down in protest when she’s hot and she gets extremely irritated when I make her keep walking. Sookie, meanwhile just looks at me with a sulk in her eye and her tongue hanging out in panting protest. Then, when we get home, she spends the rest of the evening sprawling out in various positions on the cool piece of linoleum that’s in my entranceway just to show me she is, in fact, hot.

The trouble is, the dogs think they want to walk so when I don’t walk them, they have this habit of both sitting there at our regular sojourn time and looking at me as though to say , “are we going walking or what?” Every move I make is watched and it just takes one step for them to run to the front door, waiting for me to put their leashes on them.

Still, last night, I hadn’t planned on walking them because of the heat. Also, I’ll confess, I was a little crabby from a not-so-great day at work and wasn’t feeling very social and I knew if I went out with the dogs, I’d be accosted by Son of Dog Whisperer to buy some lemonade. This only aided my desire to not walk.

However, the dogs didn’t seem to like my plan and they went into their traditional “WHEN ARE WE WALKING????” stance. Also, I started to feel a little like the neighbourhood Scrooge. I mean, the kid was just trying to have a little business, right? That sort of enterprising behavior should be rewarded.

It’s just….well, how to say this without being mean….the kid is a little…odd. He often walks up to me, says something random and runs off. However, lately, he’s been becoming a little friendlier. He gave me a signed hockey puck because he thought he might be a famous hockey player on his team. Only afterwards did I find out from Wife of Dog Whisperer, he didn’t really have a hockey team. Still, it was a sweet gesture.

Thus, I began to feel mean for not wanting to give the kid 25 cents for a cup of lemonade. Sighing, I tucked a dollar bill and some quarters into my jeans pocket and then got the dogs ready for walking.

Sure enough, as soon as I stepped outside, I was accosted. “WannabuysomeLEMONADE???” the kids yelled at me. Son of Dog Whisperer’s friends live down the street and the little girl, who is about six, is a little too aggressive in trying to pet the dogs when we see her. She runs up to them “CUTEDOGGGIEEEEE” she yells as she simultaneously tries to grab them. The pups, of course, skitter away in alarm at this little human who doesn’t seem to understand that the dogs might not want to be grabbed. Her brother is a little less affectionate with the dogs. I think they might even be twins because they look about the same age.

Anyway, combined with Son of Dog Whisperer’s enthusiasm, the lemonade stand was definitely not deprived of hawkers. I promised the kids I’d get a cup when I came back around the block with the dogs.

It took a wee bit longer than planned because we ran into Larry the Potential Serial Killer. He was mowing his lawn and was very sweaty but it didn’t stop him from coming over for one of his a-little-too-up-close-and-personal chats.

By the time we escaped, we looped back around the block and I saw Son of Dog Whisperer running in someone’s yard, clearly scouting the territory for me to reappear. As I said, he’s a nice boy but he doesn’t have many senses of boundaries and has no qualms about walking through anyone’s yard, including mine. I don’t say anything because I don’t want to be one of those “GET OFF MY LAWN!” cranks but I find it a little irritating.

I finally got to the lemonade stand and was told it was both 25 cents and 50 cents a glass. The kids had a bit of an argument about how much to charge me. I decided to be nice and gave them a dollar and told them to keep the change. I took my lemonade and headed inside but not before Son of Dog Whisperer ran up to me and asked “So, what have you been up to lately, [Captain Monkeypants]?” It seemed like quite a grown-up question for an eight year old to ask a neighbour but I figured he’d been learning manners so I chatted with him and then he left me to take the dogs inside.

I sipped the lemonade but, as anticipated, it was Kool Aid and was very, very sweet and I couldn’t drink it. I decided to start making dinner so I was just getting my vegetables ready to chop when there was a thump on my door. I opened it. This may seem simple but with two dachshunds, opening the front door involves some quick maneuvering to make sure they don’t run out. Thus, I stepped outside and shut the door behind me. The little boy from down the street had gone and it was just son of Dog Whisperer and the little girl.

It seemed I’d been the winner in a drawing that Son of Dog Whisperer and his little female friend had created and I’d won both a free glass of lemonade and a Mormon pamphlet that I know for a fact and been lying in their front yard for a while during several storms. Thus, it was muddy and mottled.

Surprised, I said thanks. Then Son of Dog Whisperer said, “Fifty Cents, please.” I was surprised because usually ‘winning’ doesn’t involve paying for said prize, particularly when it’s not really wanted but at this point, I still thought it was cute and I handed over the fifty cents I had in my pocket.

With a polite “thanks”, the kids scampered off. I went back to dinner. Then, moments later, there was another thump-thump-thump on my door. They were back. This time with a half-empty can of root beer that I’d also ‘won’ in yet another drawing. This time, I didn’t have any change or dollar bills and I told them that. Dejected, they handed me the can and walked away.

Again, I went back to making dinner. Again, I was interrupted. This time, they rang the doorbell. This time, there was no pretense of my winning a prize. They just wanted money. I was a little surprised and I joked that I didn’t have any more cash since I used my debit card mostly. That was fine. The kids ‘took debit cards.’ I laughed and said, “Uh-huh, sure you do.” The kids wouldn’t let it go. They just kept on and on about me giving them money and my debit card. I finally got annoyed and said I had to go. The kids decided then to steal my cute little dog statue I have in my front yard and run off with it unless I gave them a dollar.

During this time, there was absolutely no sign of Dog Whisperer or Wife of Dog Whisperer and I was starting to get angry that not only were these kids being brats but, also, they were unsupervised brats. Finally, I went inside thinking that if I ignored them, they’d just get fed up and leave and I’d get my statue back later.

This was fine until they both decided to literally plaster themselves up against my front window doing that horrible thing that kids do and stuck their mouths on my window, sticking out their tongues and leaving my window all smeared. I was furious by this point. The dogs were going crazy and I was at the end of my patience. They kept yelling “ONE DOLLAR” and held up my dog statue. Finally, irritated beyond anything, I opened the door and gave them the dollar since nothing else was going to get rid of them. Just as I did, Dog Whisperer stepped out of his house. The kids grabbed the dollar and ran off and Dog Whisperer went inside before I could even mention what the kids had been doing.

I figured that was the end of it. I was just getting the food on the grill outside when my doorbell rang, again. This time, it was Son of Dog Whisperer by himself with some flash cards he wanted me to buy to teach my dogs to read. Fortunately, this time, Dog Whisperer was hot on his heels and I got a very sincere apology.

I suppose it was my own fault. I thought I’d be nice and give the kids the money to help teach them the value of ‘earning’ a dollar. After all, isn’t that the point of a lemonade stand? I shouldn’t have kept giving in to them. I know I should never have given them that last dollar because I was just encouraging them but since ignoring them didn’t stop them nor did it deter them, it seemed like the best option. My next step was going to be MY knocking on HIS door to talk to his parents and I had every intention of doing that.

I’m not ruling that out because I have a feeling that the kids are going to think of me as the sucker who gave them money. I am a sucker. I stupidly thought that being nice would simply be appreciated rather than seen as a ‘ooh, let’s get more money from her.” I know that they’re young but at the age of eight, I’d been taught that asking for money from anyone but my parents was unacceptable. If offered, I could take it but demanding or begging for it was a no-no.

I suppose there’s a lesson to be learned there somewhere. I’m just hoping that there aren’t any more lemonade stands cropping up in front of Dog Whisperer’s house for a while. If so, I will not be buying. In fact, I think I’ll hide in my house until it goes away which is what I should have done in the first place.

Ah well, you learn something new every day, right?

Happy Thursday!

Muggy Musings

Today is the first really hot day we’ve had in a very long time. Unfortunately, the heat is of the humid kind which means that the minute you walk outside, you feel as though you’re in a sauna.

I’m not a fan of humidity. Yesterday was a lovely spring day where it was warm but breezy and there was very little humidity to be found. Today, we’re in danger of storms so the humidity is piling up and making everything feel a little ominous.

It does feel stormy out there. I hope we get a giant storm, even though it means rain. I love to listen to them rage at night. Of course, the dogs don’t necessarily agree. Sookie will calmly snuggle up closer to me and hide under the covers whereas Rory will jerk awake, sit bolt upright at the first crash of thunder and then proceed to also get under the covers, usually sitting on Sookie in her rush to hide and ending up on top of my chest.

It’s quite hard to sleep like that though it is rather endearing. I’ve noticed that the dogs don’t seem to consider me much when it comes to sharing the bed. They definitely like to cuddle up to me but it’s usually in whatever position they find comfortable and it doesn’t matter if I find it comfortable. Often, I wake up to find that I have two dogs laying sprawled horizontally across the bed and I’m creeping closer and closer to the edge of the mattress.

Sometimes, one of the girls will push the other off the bed. We’ve had a couple of incidents in the night where Sookie has knocked Rory off or vice versa. I usually scoop the surprised pup back up on the bed where she sits in an embarrassed, indignant hunch until I lie back down . At this point, the offended dog will turn her back on me and move far away from me and the other pup. Of course, by morning, she’s back and curled up close.

Still, even with the occasional nocturnal Shuffling O’ the Dogs, I still am thankful that my pups are old enough to sleep through the night. My sister got a new puppy- it’s a peculiar looking thing with very long legs and a tiny body. It’s only nine weeks old which is the age at which I got Sookie and Rory. She’s going through crate training and getting up regularly to let her outside.

I’m glad those days are over for me. Many a night was I awoken by a frantic puppy that was licking me to wake me up because she REALLY needed to go outside. This was fine some times. They’d go out, do their business and we’d shuffle back to bed. On rainy nights, it wasn’t fun. For one thing, they didn’t like to go out in the rain so I’d have to go out to encourage them to go and give them a reward if they did and, secondly, we’d all go back to bed wet and soggy.

I do miss the early days of puppyhood. Like many things you see every day, I don’t realize how much the dogs have grown until I look back at puppy pictures. To me, they look the same. Then I look at photos and I see the little five pound babies who are now 14 lb adults.

They still act like puppies though. Last night, I watched them torment Dog Whisperer’s beasts who were driving me a little potty as I sat outside and tried to blog. My girls decided that since the beasts were already barking, they’d at least give them a reason to bark. Thus, Sookie proceeded to tear along the edge of the fence, get the beasts excited to the point where they started fighting and then she’d calmly break away and sit with Rory and watch.

Part of me was highly entertained and satisfied. Part of me felt a little bad that my dogs were just contributing to the normal racket that the stupid dogs provide. I’ve got to the point if I’m just outside sitting, I can ignore them. However, if I’m doing something like, say, shearing the long grass down by the fence and Dog Whisperer lets the dogs out, it annoys me because the dogs throw themselves right at the fence where I’m standing and growl at me. Then they bark. And bark. And bark. And since Dog Whisperer refuses to acknowledge the noise, I end up giving up.

I’ve mentioned it to Wife of Dog Whisperer who muttered something about bark collars and negative reinforcement but, so far, there’s no sign of the collar and the negative reinforcement seems to consist of a weak, “Fred, No!” from the back door. Occasionally Wife of Dog Whisperer will be more proactive but it’s simply not consistent enough for the dogs to grasp that it’s NEVER ok to act like a homicidal, maniacal barking fiend. Unfortunately, as I learned with Sookie and Rory, you have to keep doing something in order for the dogs to learn.

Still, for all their dog issues, at least my neighbours are nice. They loan broken lawnmowers and Wife of Dog Whisperer is nice to chat to when we both have time. Son of Dog Whisperer is a nice little boy even if he is a little…odd. He’s stopped staring at me so much and now talks to me. He often accidentally hits his ball in my garden but I figure my retrieval and return of the ball is penance for all the times my friends and I would do the same thing to our neighbours when we were kids.

Besides, walking around the neighbourhood with the girls in the evenings, I see that there are lots of houses with lots of yappy dogs so it’s not just me. Granted, I REALLY wish that strange dogs that aren’t on a leash would stop chasing us and making us flee but, well, it makes me more alert even if it is a little terrifying. It’s happened three times now and I really don’t like it. I feel like an idiot when I run away but when you have a full-sized German shepherd lunging at two terrified dachshunds with no weapon or defense, all you can do is run.

Although I think I am going to start carrying my little squirt bottle again. Just to be safe.

Ah well, at least life in my neighbourhood is never dull, even on hot and muggy days!

Happy Wednesday.

Furry Frustrations

It’s amazing how much you can love your dogs a ridiculous amount and yet still feel the urge to strangle them.

I imagine that parents often feel the same way towards their children. I am aware that my furry little beasts aren’t quite on the level of responsibility that having a child might be but it’s the closest I’ve ever come.

Being a pet parents is still new to me. Sure, I’ve had my dogs over a year now but as with any living creature, each day is a whole new learning experience.

Take, for example, the simple but amazingly complicated puzzle that is food. My dogs don’t to eat dog food at home. I’ve tried different brands but most of the time, they eat begrudgingly and clearly don’t like what they’re being offered. What’s annoying is that I gave one of the bags of food my girls wouldn’t touch to my parents because their dogs DO eat the brand.

Imagine my frustration when my girls went straight to the food bowl at my parents’ house and started chowing down on the very food they turned their nose up at home.

In my attempts to get them to eat on a regular schedule and eat healthy but tasty food, I’ve resorted to buying canned food. I’m not a fan of canned food. It makes their, uh, poop smell bad and, also, it’s just not that appealing. However, there are some good, holistic brands out there. We’ve tried most of them. Rory, for example, loves chicken, blueberries, sweet potato dog treats and peas. So, I found the perfect can of food- it was chicken with blueberries, sweet potato and peas.

Would she eat it? No. Of course not. Why would she? It was DOG food. My dogs don’t like dog food unless it’s not me providing it to them.

Sookie is a little less fussy and deigned to politely put some in her mouth but she glared at me the whole time she was chewing and when she finally swallowed, her stare said, “seriously? You really expect me to eat more of that?”

I imagine this was not altogether different from the way my mother would feel when she’d put a plate of dinner in front of me and I’d complain, pick at it but not eat very much because I ‘didn’t like it.’ Then, I’d go to my granny’s, have a very similar plate of food put in front of me and I’d devour the whole thing AND ask for more.

Sorry, mum. I know I can only relate on a canine level but…I’m sorry for being so picky as a child.

I have discovered that if I leave the food down long enough, they will eat it out of hunger but I do wish they had a little more enthusiasm. We did find one food that they both loved. It was another holistic brand that was for ‘high energy’ dogs. They loved it and licked the plate clean afterwards. So, excited, I went to Petsmart to buy more.

Guess what? The bloody manufacturer had discontinued that particular line of foods. Needless to say, when the pet store employee told me that, he tried to recommend other, similar brands. My girls didn’t like any of them. We’re still trying new flavours and brands. The nice thing about dog food is there are a lot of varieties to try. I just avoid ones with bad things like corn, corn products and animal by-products because, well, that just sounds bad.

In addition to our food battles, my dogs also cannot be trusted to be left alone. Last night, for example, they were happily playing outside, chasing each other and staring into the fabled sewer grate. So, silly me, I thought it might be ok to take a shower.

I’m take fairly fast showers. I didn’t think it would be a problem for the 12 minutes it takes me to disrobe, shower and get dressed again.

So, imagine my exasperation and alarm when I’m just rinsing my hair and I hear Sookie’s ‘panic’ bark.

I’ve learned to recognize this ‘panic’ bark. I’ve experienced it more than several times when Rory has pulled her Houdini act and found a way out of the back yard and is running around near the street while Sookie barks with alarm. I’ve also experienced it when Rory finds the most miniscule hole at my parents’ house and runs off to explore the great wide beyond of the soybean field next door while Sookie barks with alarm.

Thus, I can distinguish the difference between Sookie’s, “SQUIRREL! MUST EAT SQUIRREL” bark, her “you’re annoying the crap out of me, Rory,” bark, her “I’m cute so come and get me bark,” and her “PANIC! RORY’S DOING SOMETHING BAD! PANIC! PANIC!” bark.

Rory has her own series of barks too, primarily distinguished by her “I’m bored, play with me,” bark, the “why are you petting her and not me,” yip and the, “Sookie, dude, I’m outside, why aren’t you,” bark.

However, it’s Sookie’s Panic bark I’ve come to dread. When I heard it last night in the shower, my heart sunk. I immediately washed all the soap off, turned off the water, grabbed a towel and rushed to the window to see what was happening. Sookie was waiting for me with an expression I recognized on her face: Rory was Up to No Good.

Rory is often Up to No Good. It usually involves paddling in my parent’s fish pond, discovering holes in fences, digging in inappropriate places, getting covered with mud by rolling in it or doing other things she shouldn’t be doing. Sookie can be a little naughty but Rory is usually the one who is Up to No Good.

Last night was no exception. Sookie’s worried expression and Panic bark were duly merited: Rory was running around in the Dog Whisperer’s yard.

I grabbed the nearest clothes which didn’t necessarily match, threw them on, grabbed a coat and put on my wellington boots. Needless to say, I probably looked a little like a bag lady or an eccentric English woman who wanders around saying “Would you like a cup of tea dearie?” while wearing a pot of daisies on her head.

I didn’t have a pot of daisies on my head, in case you were wondering.

When I went outside, Rory wagged her tail enthusiastically. Sookie Panic barked again. In my bag-lady get up with soaking wet hair, I realized that to retrieve Rory, I would have to go all the way through the house and out the front door because I had chains and padlocks on the gates due to Rory’s last Up to No Good escape attempt.

Dog Whisperer and his family were not home. I thusly claimed Rory by cracking open his gate, catching her before she could slide by and bringing her inside. Naturally, she got told off. She knew she’d been Up to No Good because for the rest of the evening, she looked at me with flattened ears and big, sorrowful eyes.

It’s hard to stay angry at such a pathetic creature but I was quite furious. I had to spend a good 20 minutes finding creative but foolproof ways to make the fence secure because she’d found a vulnerability where the chain link didn’t quite meet the ground and she’d burrowed under it. I’ve since ordered tent stakes to make sure the fence can’t be lifted up. Hopefully, when they’re installed, I’ll feel a little more relaxed. For now, I’m going to be paranoid every time I let the dogs outside and I can’t see them immediately from the window. They will not be allowed unsupervised outside for long periods of time and I will not leave them out when I take a shower.

The sad part is that since they’re dogs, not children, they won’t completely understand their punishment. I think Rory is smart enough to have deduced that Playing in Dog Whisperer’s Yard=Mummy is very angry but I don’t know if it’s enough to stop future escape attempts. I do know that as soon as I see Rory is not in the yard, my Code Red Alert button goes off in my brain and I start to panic that something bad will happen. My anger with them is as much from fear as from frustration. It shows how much the silly little creatures mean to me, I suppose. It’s just not good for the stress level.

Being a parent is hard. Even when your ‘kids’ have fur and four legs. Kids or dogs, they can still make you so angry you want to throttle them.

Even when you’re hugging them to you in relief that they’re safe.

Happy Thursday!

The Arrival of Spring

It is a very warm day here in my little corner of the Midwest. Given that it was snowing less than two weeks ago, it’s interesting that it was over 70 degrees today. The air has that almost humid feel that makes everything feel a little clammy.

It makes things interesting. Given that it’s the first day of spring today, the warm temperatures provide the urge to convert everything to spring. This means taking the down comforter off the bed and replacing it with something lighter and taking out the clothes I packed up at the end of last summer and switching them with my winter sweaters.

It’s still too early, however. By Thursday, the schizophrenic nature of the Midwestern weather will take us back to the low 40s. I suspect people will be shivering.

What’s interesting is that just a few weeks ago, we would have been rejoicing at the sound of temperatures in the 40s. We would have taken off our winter jackets and embraced the balminess of the higher temperatures.

Yet now we’ve had a taste of warmer weather, we’re greedy and ungrateful and we balk at such coldness that doesn’t belong in the Springy world of outside.

My theory is to just go with it. I like the fact that we haven’t settled on a climate yet. I like that we’re still in for some cold nights before it starts to stay warm for good. I sleep best when it’s cold outside. The pups do too. We snuggle together and wake up rested and groggy. It’s hard to achieve that same level of unconsciousness when it’s balmy outside. Even when it’s time for the air conditioning to come on, you can’t fake yourself into sleeping as deeply as you do when it’s winter and hibernation feels like a tempting prospect.

Yet even with the colder temperatures, it’s pretty clear that spring is here to stay. My garden and the others around me are boasting golden clusters of daffodils. The tulips are coming up and will have their turn to bloom in a month.

Unfortunately, with the spring flowers, the weeds are starting to appear too. My garden is coming back to life with more green popping up in the muddy soil every day.
The grass has also started to grow which means that it will soon be time to mow. As I’ve mentioned, it’s not my favourite task but I do rather like coming home from work, mowing the lawn and then relaxing on the deck with the puppies as I admire how much tidier the back yard looks.

All the signs that winter is passed and spring has her grip are appearing. Unfortunately, like the weeds, the signs are not all good. The Dog Whisperer has taken to leaving his beasts out for longer periods of time which means their annoying yips are driving me a little crazy. I have decided that this year, if I’m working outside in the yard and the dogs next door still continue to bark non-stop, I’m going to talk to the Dog Whisperer or, more likely, Wife of Dog Whisperer. I’ve now lived in my house for over a year and have one summer under my belt. Thus, the fact that they said their dogs would get used to me and stop barking has become a bit of a lie. Also, since the dogs bark at every living thing that moves, it’s unlikely that they ever ‘get used’ to things. It’s just hard to relax in the warm spring air when there’s three dogs barking persistently through the fence.

The barking dogs are a nuisance but not enough to deter me or the pups from staying outside. We’ve already inspected the garden to see what signs of life there are. Most everything is coming back to life with the exception of one rose bush that clearly didn’t survive the winter. More likely, it didn’t survive the fact that two dachshunds decided to make it a digging site and it’s now practically sitting on top of the earth rather than being embedded in it.

Yet, dead rose bushes aside, the rest of the landscape is growing greener by the day as if someone is slowly dragging a paintbrush over it. The grey days of winter seem to have passed and Spring has taken her hold.

Despite the fact that I’ll miss the snow and coziness of winter, it’s time to let go and embrace the brighter days of spring and summer.

I don’t think that will be too hard.

Happy First Day of Spring!

A Squirrel in a Bucket....

This has been one of those weekends that has gone by quickly because it's just been busy. It's the kind of busy that's good though- where I get things done but still get to relax. Not all of it has been planned busyness. Sometimes that just...happens.

Saturday, for example, I decided that I'd have a relaxing morning with the puppies. I had been woken up early by Wife of Dog Whisperer yelling at her dog. I'm talking 5 a.m.-early. When we got up around 8 a.m., I let the puppies out. Then I saw Wife of Dog Whisperer running around outside in her pink pajamas. Her very pink, large pajamas. It was a cold morning and I couldn't figure out why she was running around with no shoes and coat on. I ended up getting dressed and investigating but I couldn't figure it out. It was peculiar.

I read for a while. I've been plodding through A.S. Byatt's The Children's Book. I didn't like it very much when I started but it's one of those books you feel compelled to finish to see if anything would happen. Well, it took forever and I can safely say that not much really happened at all. Instead, there were pages and pages of minute detail about everything. There were politics. There was social commentary. Yet...not much happened. I was hoping I'd start to care about the characters but what ended up happening is I couldn't remember who was who and all the children just blurred together. Still, I was determined to finish it.

I didn't finish it on Saturday. Instead, I decided to go and see "Paranormal Activity 2" since the first one had inspired The Reluctant Demon and I thought I might get some more ideas. It wasn't a bad movie, if you liked the first one. It was clever how it tied in with the original. However, it was a lot less scary because it was sloppy. For example, most of the initial 'spookiness' is captured through views from individual cameras all over the house. It was very distracting that, night after night, the kitchen camera managed to capture the exact same view- that of the kitchen island with a cup on it and a bowl of apples. Some days, there were bananas in the apple bowl. Other days, there weren't any apples. Yet, every night, there were apples, no bananas and the same cup. I think they were reusing the same image. It may not seem like much but when you're watching a film that is hoping to shock you with sudden, unpredictable things, small details like that mug are distracting. Also, when one of the characters is dragged away by the demon, she's bitten by it too. I'm sorry but even though I'm sure it's terrifying to have a demon in your house that's dragging you down the stairs, for a demon, that was a pretty wimpy bite. I mean, come on- can't the demon have pointy teeth that ripped through flesh or something instead of a human-like bite mark?

I'm overthinking this. This is why I make up silly paranormal romantic comedies about demons rather than try to be scary because it's easy to overthink things and then the scariness vanishes.

Anyway, I digress. So I came home from the movie and let the puppies out. Then they puppies began to bark. Then they began to whine. It's the type of whining they do when there's a bunny or squirrel almost within reach and they can just about taste it. I went out to investigate. I looked around and saw nothing. Then I realized that it wasn't in the yard next door but there was a squirrel laying under Possibly-Joe's fence and it was only two feet away from the pups. Fortunately, there was a fence between it and my puppies but they wanted it and they wanted it bad. They wanted it so badly that Rory literally attempted to chew through the chainlink fence to get to it. I'm just happy she has normal teeth and not super-strong steel teeth or something.

Then, as I was contemplating whether the squirrel was stuck or it was just sitting there, Wife of Dog Whisperer came out to inform me that the squirrel had fallen from a tree and her dogs had almost got it so she had put it on a rake and put it over the fence. Unfortunately, it had attempted to crawl back into the yard. The result was it being stuck under Possibly-Joe's fence within smelling range of two dachshunds. Wife of Dog Whisperer shrugged and said there wasn't much we could do. I, however, disagreed. I mean, the poor rodent was clearly dying. I did not want a dying squirrel anywhere close to the puppies because it was torture for them. They REALLY want a squirrel. I also didn't fancy a dead squirrel there either because...well....ew!

So, I took it upon myself to solve the problem. I shut the pups indoors and went about using a shovel, a bucket and a rake handle. This was no easy feet. The chain link fence is four-feet high. The squirrel was on the other side of it. I managed to get it out from where it seemed to be trapped but getting it onto the shovel was no easy feat. Fortunately, the squirrel still seemed to have a will to live and it helped me out by using it's claws to cling to the shovel. Thus, I hefted it and the shovel over the fence and gently attempted to drop the squirrel in the bucket. The squirrels will to live remained and it would NOT let go of the shovel. I literally had to ply its claws off to let it go.

Thus I had a squirrel in a bucket. It was still alive. I didn't know what to do with it. Finally, I decided that since I was taking the puppies over to the woods for a walk anyway, taking a squirrel in a bucket would be a good idea. Thus, I ended up depositing the poor squirrel- which was still alive- in the woods on a pile of leaves. I have no doubt it was going to die but at least it could die somewhere comfortable.

The rest of Saturday was not quite so exciting though I got my pumpkin carved. Sunday was also pretty quiet although I got a nice phone call from an old friend inviting me to an 'old timer's reunion' at one of my old workplaces.

Am I an old-timer??? I shudder at the thought. Still, she's a good friend and it might be fun to see some of my old coworkers since it was a job at a hospital that I actually liked.

The only other unplanned excitement was that the doorbell rang this evening. This may not seem exciting but my doorbell only rings when I hit the button. The puppies went nuts. Turns out it was Dog Whisperer himself accompanied by Son of Dog Whisperer. He's a boy scout now. Son of Dog Whisperer, I mean...not Dog Whisperer. Dog Whisperer is too old to be a boy scout. Anyway, he's selling popcorn. I bought some because I'm one of those people who is horribly crippled by guilt if I'm directly asked by a child selling cookies, magazines, popcorn or wrapping paper and I say no. So I don't say no. I didn't say no this time. Now I'm going to have an enourmous tub of popping corn that cost me $10. It's a good cause. I just don't eat that much popcorn. I may have to share.

So, that's been our rather odd weekend. It hasn't been bad. The only thing I feel bad about really is that I've been promising Sookie and Rory that one day, they'd have their very own squirrel. I even went looking for trees to plant last weekend so they could have their very own squirrel tree. Then, when I had the opportunity to give them one, I didn't. Instead, I put it in a bucket and let it go in the woods. I know they knew what i was doing and they were not happy with me.

Oh well. I'm sure there'll be other squirrels. Just not in a bucket...I hope.

Happy Monday

In the Doghouse...

Today was a better day. I won't say it was a running down the hills, flinging my arms out and caterwauling a happy-joy-joy song but it wasn't bad. It's the last 'nice' day before the humidity builds back up so I made sure to go out with the puppies at lunch.

The puppies, at least, have mellowed out a little. They're still frantically hunting rabbits but they're not quite as obsessed as before. They have started to listen a little more when I call them although last night, I'm ashamed to admit I had a spat with the puppies and completely lost my temper. Sookie wouldn't come near me. I felt horrible.

You should know, I have a terrible guilt complex. It doesn't take much to make me feel guilty and apologize. When it comes to the point where I've upset my little puppy to the point where she won't look at me and, when she does, it's with trepidation and anxiety, I feel horrible.

I have no real defense. All I can say is it was 11:30 p.m. and I was trying to go to bed. I let the puppies out to go do their business and then they vanished. My back garden is very dark at night. I have a light on my patio that doesn't reach to the vegetable garden/brush patch where the puppies like to play. I put a couple of solar lights back there but they don't really shine that brightly. So when two black puppies go back there in the dark, it's not easy to see them.

I called and called and they didn't come. I finally got my flashlight and went looking for them. They still wouldn't come. So, by this point, I was tired and all I wanted to do was sleep. I called them one more time and still they ignored me.

I finally got angry and I yelled. I was furious. Rory came in but I'd apparently traumatized Sookie. I had to carry her in.

I felt awful. She was upset. I was upset. I was also feeling guilty.

Thankfully, she seemed to have forgiven me this morning. I was very relived. I still feel guilty. I shouldn't have shouted but it's such a knee-jerk reaction when you're annoyed to the point of frustration. You just…snap. Unfortunately, in my case, dogs don't necessarily understand it when I apologize repeatedly.

Today, we've made up. She came to me as usual for her post-crate cuddle at lunch and it was a longer one than usual. She sought me out in the garden and we played together. I think I'm forgiven. I learned my lesson though. Just like any 'parent', I have to be careful to make sure my bad day isn’t reflected upon my charges. It's not their fault I was tired and crotchety.

And, as I said, today they seem less bunny-centric. Also, Potential-Serial-Killer-Larry (PSKL) promised me last night that if he had his way, he'd be "shootin' those rabbits." Yes, PSKL has a gun and he wants to use it.

He apparently is a good shot. He'd like to eat those bunnies. Now, when I was younger, the thought of eating Thumper was horrifying to me. I mean, it was a cute bunny! Now, after a couple of years of becoming an obsessive foodie, I would try rabbit. I hear it's tasty when cooked right.

It doesn't mean I want to eat the rabbit in my garden though. In this case, I'd rather not know the rabbits on my plate, if you know what I mean.

Also, I'd imagine shooting a rabbit isn't going to do much to preserve the, uh, meat. A bullet would do some damage, I'd think.

Still, Larry has promised that if it becomes open season, he's the first one in line with his gun. I didn't ask what type of gun he was talking about. I thought it best not get into the topic of potential murder weapons when I already call him Potential Serial Killer Larry.

Larry also told me he was going to send an anonymous letter to the Dog Whisperer because he was sick of the barking. I told him that it might be a better idea simply to try to talk to them about it first. I recommended he try to talk to Wife of Dog Whisperer though since she seems to be the boss of the family. Also, she doesn't stare at you like you're insane every time you talk to her like her husband does.

I felt a little guilty about that at first. I mean, I am enabling Larry as the terminology goes. I'm encouraging to help me do my dirty work. However, I thought about it logically. First, he was going to file a police report. Then he was going to send an anonymous letter. I managed to talk him into doing a sensible, non-cowardly thing….talking to them. Granted, no one wants to be told that their dogs are horrible annoying beasts but it's better coming from someone like Larry who may be slightly sinister but isn't an unfriendly man. Besides, I was very clear to make sure I told him that if it was bothering him that much that he should let them know. I distanced myself. The Dog Whisperer and Wife of Dog Whisperer knows it bothers me which is why they try to control the beasts when I'm outside. They don’t do a great job but they try.

In a way, I did the neighbours a favour. Which is better, a patrol car pulling up to check out the situation or a potential serial killer politely telling them to keep their dogs quieter?

Well, they don't have to know that he has potential to be a serial killer, do they? I'll keep that to myself.

Either way, I've been trying to keep my pups inside a little more when the rampaging barking starts. Given their crack-addition to rabbits, it hasn't been working so well lately but we're working on it.

I just have to remember that it's not fair to yell at the puppies when I'm annoyed about life in general.

Otherwise there's guilt and big brown eyes.

Which leads to more guilt.

It's a vicious cycle.

Neighbourly Encounters...

It's been so hot here lately. We haven't had any rain in about two weeks and the ground is dry, the plants are drooping and everything just looks tired.

It's hard to find the energy to go out and do anything. Even if you start out with the best of intentions, you start to get busy outside but are driven in by the humidity and the bugs. Even with my magical Off mosquito fan, the tiny, horrible little fruit-fly like black bugs still converge on you when you go outside. On a coworker's advice, I've taken to using a dryer sheet hooked around my belt loop for additional defense. This does work, I'll have you know. Unfortunately, it doesn't help the puppies who are swarmed each time they sit on the grass. I thought about tying a dryer sheet around their collar but they'd only tear it off one another.

I suppose the good part about it being so dry is that the grass isn't growing which means there isn't much mowing to be done though I do have strange patches of very fertile grass that is always an inch or so taller than the rest of the grass. The neighbourhood seems strange without the hum of lawnmower engines each night but we're in the hottest part of the summer and no one really wants to mow.

Well, I should take that back. Potential-Serial-Killer-Larry wants to mow. Since there was a cool-ish breeze blowing this evening, I decided to take the puppies for a walk. They were getting a bit crotchety with everything. They snipe at one another, give me the cold shoulder and then get rather cross with the holes they're trying to big. This, I have to say, is a sight to see. They love to dig holes in the grass but there's only so deep they can dig even with their quite-large paws. Rory, especially, still gets so angry with the ground that she stomps, yips, and even does this peculiar hand-stand like thing trying to just get a little deeper. When Sookie starts to join in the 'yelling at the hole', I usually try to bring them inside to calm down.

I decided tonight that maybe they needed to burn off some of their sniping energy with a walk. We managed to get all the way around the block without anyone stopping us to pet the puppies. We also didn't see any of the r-a-b-b-i-t-s. I have to spell it these days because the pups have figured out what one of those is as well as b-u-n-n-i-e-s. I know they can't read but they're hypersensitive to the stupid creatures.

Of course, then we ran into Larry. He was mowing. It was 94 degrees out, supposedly up to a 100 degrees with the heat index. He was sweaty and not particularly appealing. I'd hoped to walk on by but, alas, he stopped the mower, just to say hi to me and the "fellas". He then proceeded to immediately launch into a tirade about the Dog Whisperer's beasts.

Don't get me wrong. It's extremely gratifying to hear someone else complain rather than just me. He's just trying to enlist me in his scheme to have the police stop by. While part of me really, really would love to see that happen, I've also got to live next to the Dog Whisperer and Wife of Dog Whisperer. Also, I like Wife of Dog Whisperer. I do not want to cause any bad blood because it would be awkward.

It's a bit of a dilemma. While I would love to see someone get those dogs under control, I also don't want to be involved. I know. It sounds passive aggressive but it's just one of those things I'm trying to learn to deal with while living in a neighbourhood. It's a fine line. While I do visualize doing mean things to those dogs such as squirting them in the face with my hose, I don't do it because I'm really not that cruel. Also, Wife of Dog Whisperer seems to try to control the dogs.

Also, a part of me is worried that because Sookie and Rory's second favourite game is Getting the Yappy Beasts Excited and then snickering behind the tool shed, there might be some blame placed on me. (If you're wondering, their first favourite game is Capture the a)Bunny, b) Cicada bugs, c) birds and d) butterflies.

So, I'm not sure what to do. Even if I tell Larry the potential serial killer that he's welcome to do what he likes but I can't be involved, I'm afraid the Dog Whisperer will blame me, anyway. I know they know that I'm annoyed. I've contemplated putting up some privacy netting to block the puppies from their dogs view but then the yappy beasts will only bark at me instead because it won't be tall enough to hide me.

So, I guess we're at an impasse. I told Larry that I'd like to give it a couple more weeks but, if the dogs really do bother him that much, to go ahead and do what he needs to do. I think the sad part is that I'm being somewhat desensitized to the barking. It still annoys me but I expect it. There's something wrong with that, I know but it's just an adjustment I've made.

I ended up getting stuck talking to Larry for a while. The puppies didn't seem to mind. They lay down and enjoyed the breeze. I don't mind but he's got that up-close-and-personal approach to chatting that tends to be a little invasive.

Still, he didn't show me his human hair nor did we find any bones outside his house so I'd consider that a good walk. He did leave me with some food for thought though. What do you all think? Shall I consent to his taking action or shall I let things lie? Suggestions and comments would be most welcome.

I'd ask the puppies advice since they, too, are bothered by the yapping but I'm afraid they'd just stare at me blankly and then take a lap up and down the fence, just long enough to incite a barking fest from the Dog Whisperer's beasts. Then they'll collapse in a pile far enough away that the beasts can still see them but the puppies can't be blamed for any ill activity, panting in the summer heat.

Still, at least we got our walk tonight. Running into Larry is always interesting, if a little uncomfortable.

I just wish he'd stop calling my girls "Fellas". Oh well, you have to pick your battles, I suppose.

Happy Wednesday.

In Which I Decided to Divorce Walmart...

I have to say, my weekend started better than it ended.

On Friday evening, I had once-more working air conditioning and two rather subdued but healthy puppies back from the vet after their spay. I decided that this would be a weekend of just staying at home, relaxing and keeping an eye on the puppies.

Saturday was nice. The only thing I had to do was go grocery shopping and so I went to Kroger and Walmart to get that done.

I've decided that it's time for me to officially divorce Walmart, by the way. Back when Walmart was just...Walmart- before it became Walmart Super Center- Walmart was fun. It was a little messy but it felt comfortable. The prices were lower and it was fun to go there and see what they had.

I enjoyed my relationship with Walmart. Truth-be-told, when I first moved to California, one of my favourite things to do when I came home was go to Walmart because they're a little harder to find in L.A.

Then, as time passed, Walmart stopped being so convenient, their prices went up...and then they remodeled. Their stores now have a warehouse feel and it's just not appealing- well, not to me, at least.

Every time I go in Walmart, I walk around, annoyed that they don't have what I'm looking for. When they do have it, I usually get a choice of the Walmart generic brand and the most expensive name brand. There's not much inbetween. I find myself more and more leaving Walmart, disgusted at how, once again, the store has failed me and rather than continue shopping for other things I need, I'd rather go to Kroger to do my shopping.

Thus, the bloom is now off the rose. As of Saturday when i still believed Walmart had lower prices on some stuff and carried things I couldn't necessarily find at Kroger...I'm officially ending the relationship with Walmart. We had our good times. We had fun together. But as we've grown older, we've become strangers. If it were really a marriage, this would probably be the stage where I'd lie in bed with my husband and start envisioning mean things I could do to him. If you've ever read Roald Dahl's book, The Twits- that's how I'm feeling towards Walmart. It's about a horrible husband and wife who try to do the cruelest things they can think of to each other because they dislike each other. At least, that's the way I remember it.

Anyway, I'm fed up of going to Walmart, hopeful that I'll get everything on my shopping list and finding that I'm always having to compromise or, worse, do without. So, bye Walmart- if I have to go into your walls, I'll be cordial but I don't expect anything anymore and I'd prefer that we remain strangers. It's not me...it's you.

So, aside from Walmart and Kroger- a store which continues to meet my expectations- I spent much of the day with the puppies. I had to do a bit of stern mothering when they tried to play like they normally did but, for the most part, I kept them calm.

Of course, the Dog Whisperer didn't help much with that. Ironically, I'd run into him at the vets. This was not too much of a coincidence since I got the referral for the vet from Wife of Dog Whisperer. However, this means that Dog Whisperer was fully away my pups had just been spayed and that maybe, just maybe, they would want a bit of peace. Or, at the very least, I might want them to have a little peace.

Alas, this was not meant to be since he let his yappy beasts out every single time I went out with the puppies. Now, normally, I leave the back door open a crack to let the puppies go in and out how they want. While it doesn't excuse the barking of Dog Whisperer's pets, it means that by allowing the puppies to run freely and knowing that their mere presence sets off the yaps, I do have a little responsibility there. Not much, but a little.

Of course, if I had my way about it and wanted to be completely mean, I'd be honest and say that yes, my puppies make his dogs bark but, really, his dogs shouldn't be barking like that in the first place. What is interesting is that on one of my recent vet visits, I tactfully asked the vet for suggestions on how to handle it. I figured that since she was their vet too, she knew they were yappy and may have some suggestions. She suggested a privacy fence and said it would go a long way to, "alleviate the tension that exists between you and your neighbours."

Now, call me paranoid but well, since I hadn't expressed any tension but merely asked for advice, I can't help but wonder if Dog Whisperer has mentioned some tension. Given that he no longer makes any effort whatsoever to control his dogs' barking, I can't help but wonder. I'd like to give him the benefit of the doubt but, well, I'm finding it hard. Also, now I've realized how pricey a privacy fence is to build (over $1000), I'm finding it hard to feel like I should be the one to construct the fence.

Back to my original point- he let the dogs out every single time I was out with the girls. We went out once every couple of hours. Most of the day, the girl's slept. It's not that hard to look over and see if someone's in the yard next door before you let the dogs out. I do it all the time with the yappy beasts. I did it on Saturday, as a matter of fact so I knew when it would be a good time to take the girls out so they didn't start running around because of the barking next door. All my efforts to make sure the coast was clear went out the window when he let his dogs out anyway.

What made it worse was he came to fence to encourage my puppies to run and play. The puppies didn't know any better. They were probably sore and a little tired from their surgery but their first instinct is to be a puppy, not lie down and relax.

Needless to say, I made sure we went inside and I told the Dog Whisperer it would be better if the girls didn't get too excited. He did what he usually did- gave me a blank look and stood up. He doesn't talk much to me. Sometimes I wonder if he can't understand what I'm saying because he rarely responds to my questions or comments. It's a bit odd.

So, all in all, Saturday wasn't bad. It was nice and lazy.

Then I woke up on Sunday and realized my air conditioner wasn't working. Again. The technician on Friday had told me my 'high pressure switch had reset itself.' He reset it for me and it started working. He didn't know why it reset itself. This time, it seems to be the same problem.

It's not as hot as it was the last time the air conditioning broke but it's still hot. The worst part is trying to keep the puppies cool. I'm really hoping that the air conditioning repair company doesn't try to charge me for a second visit because really, I called them to fix it in the first place. Since they didn't really fix anything, I think that deserves another visit for free...right?

So, all in all, I decided that today was going to be a lazy day. I've done very little but watch Spain beat the Netherlands in the World Cup final match. I've been watching episodes of Top Chef and I've been making sure the puppies stay cool and not too hot. I think sometimes, when life doesn't go the way you plan or the way you want, it's best to just sit back and relax rather than stress about it. Or, at least stress while you're doing something fun.

I'm really hoping that someone will come and fix the air conditioner tomorrow but, in the meantime, we're in for another hot night.

If this continues, I might have to change my name to Captain Crankypants.

I apologize for being crotchety. I blame the heat. And the Dog Whisperer.

Happy Monday!

Sounds of Suburbia...

Oh, the sounds of a surburban neighbourhood. Birds chirping, music pumping, squirrels squawking and...

...oh yes, barking. I'm currently listening to an orchestra of dog yips. Well, orchestra is a wee bit poetic. Not unless it's one of those orchestras where someone plays the saw, someone else plays a pickle-tub drum and someone else is attempting to play the trumpet without knowing how. Needless to say, it's a horrible sound.

Yes, the Dog Whisperer's beasts are at it again. Sadly, this week, we don't even get a break at lunchtime. Apparently, because Son of Dog Whisperer is done with school, it seems that his parents are rotating schedules to stay home. This means the beasts aren't crated and are free to run out at lunch and yip at my puppies who HAVE been crated and merely want to do their business and have a short time outside before I have to re-crate them.

Still, there are other sounds I can hear. The squirrels, for example. They do, in fact, squawk. Well, actually, it's more like they click. It's a peculiar thing but they go up in the tree and click at us, sounding like they're trying to spit. It's a weird sound but it happens rather a lot. Also, the squirrels seem to not be as agile as you'd expect squirrels to be. We've now witnessed several of them trying to play trapeze in the trees but wildly swinging instead, missing the branches and falling several levels below before finally getting a grip. It makes a weird rustling sound, sort of like you'd see on Lost when the smoke monster was approaching. If you didn't watch Lost, you're probably not sure what that sounds like. It sounds like trees rustling.

Naturally, there's the sound of lawnmowers too. I mowed tonight too. It was a bad night to pick. It's humid again and I think another storm is on the way. This is the kind of humidity that leaves you sweating and lightheaded after you've only mowed a little. Still, the lawn is mowed for now. It grows so quickly, I'm constantly amazed. The grass and the weeds grow quickly, my plants don't. I'm not sure how that works.

The puppies are ok with the lawnmower. They're still terrified of the hoover but they don't mind the mower. They like to lie down in my path and then scurry away as I approach. They've taken to digging holes in the lawn now. I think it's because they can smell bunny. The rabbit who used to live under my toolshed rather likes to taunt my puppies. He lays down right where Rory's favourite hole-digging spot is and waits until the puppies come out. Then he lets them get a couple of feet away and then he runs. He's fast and I don't think the puppies will ever catch him. I'm also amazed at how he seems to get through a solid fence with no holes. That baffles me at my parents' house too. They have rabbits and they're always running through the fence but I can never figure out how they get out.

Nevertheless, until the bunny starts eating my swiss chard or squash, he's welcome. He's an ok sort of pest. I'm constantly thankful that we only have furry squirrels and bunnies to worry about. My good friend, Ms. P, lives in Texas and has a dog named Burt who is part dachshund, part chihuahua. He's a lovely little thing. He got bit by a copperhead snake two days ago. He's going to be ok thanks to a trip to the animal ER but I can only imagine how scary it was. We have some rather large worms in our backyard but, thankfully, no snakes. I'm hoping Burt makes a speedy recovery.

Ah, there, finally, the dogs next door have stopped yipping. And yes, they WERE barking the entire time I've been blogging. Welcome to our life. I've given up on the privacy fence. Given that the dogs bark at any noise or movement, I have a feeling it wouldn't do very much anyway. On the plus side, Larry-the-potential-serial-killer has volunteered to raise a secret neighbourhood campaign to get the police involved. I'm not sure I'm ready for such drastic action but it's nice to have an ally. The thing is, I like the Dog Whisperer's wife and Son of Dog Whisperer is a little odd but he seems like a nice kid. I want to like the Dog Whisperer himself but he's sort of, uh, well...hard to like. I think it's his blatant ignoring of his yippy dogs combined with his desperate attempts to lure my dogs to the fence. Sookie barks at him. She doesn't bark at anyone else like that- not Possibly-Joe, not Larry-the-potential-serial-killer or Wife of Dog Whisperer. It's just him. Then again, sometimes I'd like to bark at him so I can't blame her.

If you can't beat them, join them...right?

Happy Friday!

Deadly Nightshade Discoveries...

It felt weird starting the work week on a Tuesday. It wasn't bad but it felt odd. It was nice to have those sudden, unexpected realizations that it was, in fact, Tuesday and that there were less days to go until the weekend than there usually are when you start work for the week.

It was a quiet day in the office. Days after holidays usually are; everyone's tired and crabby because they want to be back at home, sitting in the sun, working in the garden...whatever they did to enjoy their Monday. I was quiet too but mostly because I was tired from my early morning starts over the weekend. Ironically, the puppies did NOT want to get up this morning and would rather have continued sleeping. It's too bad they don't feel like that on days when we actually can sleep in.

I spent the day in the office working quietly on my project. I did sneak in a bit of research though. I've been trying to figure out what a shrub in my garden is. I've searched everywhere to find it and I can't find anything that meets the description. It's a very pretty little plant- dark green leaves, purple stems and clusters of little purple flowers with yellow tongues.

Well, after several attempts to search out the name of this pretty plant, today I found it. It turns out it's deadly nightshade- a very toxic plant. I've heard of it, naturally but I didn't know what it looked like. It's supposed to be fatal to animals if they eat the berries. Since I have two curious little pups who like to eat things from nature, I wasn't about to take any chances. I now no longer have deadly nightshade in my garden. It was pretty but it's not worth the risk.

I find myself becoming more of a 'mother' with my dogs every day. Pulling up the nightshade was the canine equivalent of putting stickers on the poisonous chemicals used in the home and putting a lock on the door so kids can't get them. I also find myself treating them like children- they know the tone of my voice when I'm not happy with them and a simple "What'cha doin' " brings them scurrying back from wherever they've disappeared to in order to make mischief.

So, even though it took a while, I'm glad I discovered the name of that plant. I think I got it all. We spent the evening pulling it up and getting bitten by mosquitoes. I also had to chop down part of a sapling tree. The old lady who owned my home had two enormous trees at one point but she had one cut down because she didn't like it and the other was damaged in the storm. The one that was damaged continues to grow branches from the stump. At first, I didn't mind it because it was a nice backdrop for my flowerbeds around it. I've quickly realized that it's not such a good thing. The limbs are very flimsy and elastic and all it takes is some heavy rain to flatten the big branches to the ground and promptly flattening all my flowers beneath it. I've chopped off a lot of the problem branches so hopefully that will help.

I'm finding gardening and yard maintenance to be an ongoing battle. I planted vegetables which are doing ok but the weeds around them are doing much better. The more I weed, the more weeds grow. I keep pulling them and still they grow. I would rather like to find out if there's anything I can do to stop the weeds growing. I have weed killer but I'm a bit tentative about that because of the puppies. I've tried mulch. I'm reluctant to lay down landscaping fabric because I think it makes the ground beneath it too claylike and hard to work. If anyone has any suggestions, I'm open.

Still, the one nice thing about weeding is that it gets me out in the garden after work. It lets me get down on my knees in the dirt and be at one with nature. Also, it lets me be at one with the puppies because they really like to launch themselves at my face because it's closer to their level than usual. It's nice to spend time outside with them so I won't complain too much.

Of course, I will complain that I have to mow the grass again tomorrow if it doesn't rain. The Dog Whisperer has just mowed his and it makes mine look twice as long as it really is. This time he's abandoned his diagonal mowing technique and gone back to the normal straight rows. Of course he did mow shirtless but I didn't look. It's best that way.

Happy Wednesday!

Dog Walking Encounters...

It was another sunny, warm day today. It was, in fact, quite beautiful outside. I think spring is definitely giving way to summer, slowly but surely.

The pups and I decided to take advantage of the weather and take a walk. Generally, this is actually quite an ordeal as they absolutely despise their harnesses. Sookie runs away the minute I pull them out and I have to go outside and wait until she gets distracted by a bird, squirrel, rabbit or bug before I scoop her up and take her inside where I put on her harness with much whimpering involved.

Then, of course, I have to carry her outside because she has a fear of going through the door. I think I mentioned that I accidentally shut her tail in the door once but, in my defense, she was afraid of the door before then. Dogs have weird quirks. I used to watch Gilmore Girls- still one of my all-time favourite TV shows. Lorelei Gilmore (namesake of my Rory) had a dog named Paul Anka which was the quirkiest dog ever. He was afraid of peas and didn't like to go down steps. I used to think it was quite silly and cute but not at all realistic until I got Sookie. Sookie doesn't like to take treats from me with her teeth. She gums them and promptly drops them on the ground and then wraps her paws around them, delicately chewing away. She's afraid of her harness and the front door. She thinks when I invite her to sit up on the sofa with Rory and I that I'm going to...do something bad and she runs away. Sookie, in short, is a little quirky. And, of course, I love her dearly.

We did eventually make it outside for our walk where we managed to get about ten feet when we ran into the non-Dog-Whisperer next-door-neighbours. They're a very nice couple but very chatty. We haven't seen them in a while and so we stopped to say hi. Then they insisted on getting two of their three dogs- their corgi and their King Charles cavalier spaniel- and bringing them outside on a leash to meet the girls. This was cute at first except Rory got a little excited and started to chomp on Lance's ears. Lance is the spaniel. It's weird for me to call a spaniel lance because I have a friend named Lance and he looks nothing like a spaniel.

Lance became annoyed with Rory, naturally. He turned his back and that was that. Then the corgi came out and I can never remember his name but it's something like Timmy. Rory decided to try to bite his nose. Rory is very playful and likes to jump on things. This list of things she likes to jump on includes: the sofa, worms, birds, bumblebees, Sookie, Sookie's tail, Sookie's ears, my feet, my shoes, sticks, rocks, other dogs, other dogs' noses, other dogs' ears...you get the picture. She's a jumper.

The corgi was not impressed. He barked. Then Sookie had to bark. Sookie has a bark that could seriously break glass. It's very high-pitched. It sometimes hurts my ears. The sound shocked the dog-whose-name-is-something-like-Timmy and he backed away which prompted Rory, naturally, to try to jump on his head. To make matters worse, Son-of-Dog-Whisperer walked by with a large, orange, plastic toy pistol. He pointed it at the dogs. The corgi went nuts. Then Lance went nuts. Then Rory got excited and tried to ride on Lance's back. Lance stomped away. The corgi licked Sookie who was lying down, peacefully observing the mini-chaos. She got up and walked away.

I think my neighbours were a little sorry they'd decided to bring out their dogs. I tried to control the girls but, well, they're puppies and they like other dogs. Actually, let me correct that, they seem to like other dogs who do not yap continuously and annoy the crap out of them by standing at the fence and barking every time they move like, say, the Dog Whisperer's beasts. Of course, I may be projecting a little bit there.

Anyways, we managed to leave the neighbours with a friendly 'have a great evening' and we continued on our way. Then two bunnies happened to run across the road, chasing each other. Rory decided she had to have a bunny. Fortunately, she was on a leash and I have a pretty firm grip. Sookie laid down because that's what dogs do when they see bunnies...right? Ok, I admit...Sookie is a bit strange.

I got Rory to calm down and we continued along without incident until we go to Possibly-Joe the plumber's house. He was on his room blowing leaves off it. I'm not sure why his roof has so many leaves on it, to be honest. He doesn't have many trees around him- not ones that are tall enough to drop leaves on a house. It was a bit odd, to tell you the truth. He threw us a friendly wave but his blowing-thingy alarmed the puppies who get a bit skittish around electrical-noise-making-things. Sookie hides when I hoover the floor. Rory usually runs away although she did bravely try to bite the hoover once. Then she ran away.

We managed to get by Joe and his leaf blower thing although the girls had tangled up their leashes around my legs. This was a complicated untangling affair because I was wearing a skirt and I had to lift my legs quite high. I hope no one saw my underwear.

After Joe's place is the most precarious part of our walk...Larry the Potential Serial Killer's house. I didn't see Larry as we started to pass by. I heaved a sigh of relief.

Silly Captain Monkeypants! He was in his back yard! With visitors! He came to shout "hi" over his gate but Joe's blower was noisy and he couldn't hear my "hi" response.

So, he came running out to say hi to 'the fellas'. His guests were left behind. He greeted me with a "I haven't seen you since the last time I saw you!". Uh, yes...that is a very true statement. He seemed to abandon his guests to his back garden. Eventually, though they came out and introduced themselves as Robin and Mona.

I have absolutely no idea who Robin and Mona actually were but they seemed quite nice. They left quite quickly to pick up someone else. I was a little alarmed because Mona, the driver, had started backing up from Larry's driveway before Robin had got in and Robin had to sort of run to hop in the car. Also, since the puppies, Larry and I were standing right behind the car, it was doubly alarming. I pulled the girls to safely and Mona and Robin peeled out.

Ok, so they didn't peel out but they left in a hurry. Larry wanted to show me his "to-made-as" (translation: tomatoes). I declined. I think one of my issues with Larry is that he's an 'up close and personal' chatter. He really has no concept of "This is my space, this is your space." So, talking to him involves casually backing away. Tonight, I tried that and my flip-flops and the leashes got a wee bit tangled but, fortunately, it didn't involve any accidental underwear showing moments.

I excused us from Larry by saying that the puppies were hot and needed water which, for the record, was not a fib. It was just a very convenient reason to escape. I don't think I'm exaggerating when I say that Larry seemed quite disappointed. I think Larry is quite lonely. I feel sorry for him but I'm not sure I want to be that friendly to Larry, if you know what I mean.

The girls and I began our final stretch towards home. Once we got to our front garden, Sookie promptly laid down, refusing to budge. This is my cue to pick her up and carry her back through the front door. All in all, the ten minute walk took about 40 minutes tonight. Fortunately, I had time to spare and didn't have anything else planned.

As I said in my last blog, living in a neighbourhood is fun. It turns a simple walk into an adventure of sorts because you never know who you're going to meet.

Well, except for Larry. We always meet Larry.

Sigh.

Happy Wednesday!

Life in a Neighbourhood...

It's a Monday today and, at least, it didn't feel as much like one as the past couple have. It was very sunny today- sunny and hot. We seem to have moved right out of spring into full-on summer. It's nice but it's a little humid and it means the pups are getting hot and panty as they play in the yard. Fortunately, they're enamoured with ice-cubes which makes it a quick and easy treat that keeps them busy for at least a couple of minutes.

On evenings like this, I feel as though I should be outside but it really is rather hot in the sun and there are a plethora of bugs, gnats and mosquitoes out there that seem completely resistant to my bug repellant. I find that annoying. Is bug repellant just not effective or do I have some super-hero, hybrid-bugs that are invincible. Of course, if that were true, they wouldn't get splatted whenever I discover one trying to bite me. Rory and Sookie like to catch bugs- particularly spiders. It's quite handy except Sookie tries to bring them too me when they're half-alive. I'm not terribly afraid of spiders but I don't really want them, if that makes sense.

So, I'm being lazy tonight and staying inside. I want to walk the pups but I'm afraid it's a little warm and, also, creepy possible-serial-killer-man is starting to bother me. I ran into him at Big Lots the other day and he wants me to come on by and see his 'to-mad-as' which is how he says tomatoes. While I'm happy that he has planted tomatoes, they're not particularly...enthralling to see, if you know what I mean. Also, I have rows of them growing myself. I think he was just being friendly but I'd quite like to avoid popping 'round there on a regular basis. I also feel bad because I said he could have my extra zucchini plants even though he didn't know what a zucchini was (seriously). Then I ended up finding room for them and now I don't have them. I hope he doesn't come looking for them.

My neighbourhood is an interesting place to live. There's always someone doing something. Lately, my non-dog-whispering next-door neighbours have had a lot of guests. This is not particularly remarkable except the neighbours have four cars for their household and even though they park two in the driveway and two on the street in front of their house, this means their guests park in front of my house. More unusual is that sometimes, said guests sit in their car for hours. I'm not sure why. I find it very odd but since I know they 'belong' to the neighbours, it would be weird for me to bash on their window and say, 'excuse me but you're bothering me with your sitting here and not getting out of your car. Could you leave?'...wouldn't it?

My neighbourhood- and several others around- has a new trend of mowing the grass in diagonal lines. It looks...diagonal. For me, it's way too much work since I have trouble getting my mower to mow straight lines of any kind and my lawn is on a slope. It isn't, however, a problem for the Dog Whisperer who seems obsessed with mowing his grass because he does it three times a week, sometimes in the rain. Unfortunately, he just now decided to try the diagonal mow which means that since he's a bit of a lawnmowing junkie, the last cut hadn't grown out and currently, his lawn is a bit of a crosshatch design. It looks a little wonky. I think he realized because, no kidding, he's out there now mowing and it looks like he's gone back to the horizontal mow.

The Dog Whisperer's son is an interesting little boy. He likes to shoot baskets in his little hoop which is quite a bit shorter than him. He's seven years old and is SO proud when he makes a basket that, if I'm outside, he asks me if I watched. Of course, I don't like to tell him that when you're towering over the basket, it's not that much of a feet to reach out and drop the ball in so I just nod politely and say "good job." Today, when I popped home at lunch to let the puppies out, the Dog Whisperer- off from work this week- decided to let his beasts out even though I only had a 15 minute window to let the puppies play outside. I know he doesn't do it intentionally but...sometimes I wonder. As I was leaving, Son of the Dog Whisperer was wandering down the street. He does this a lot. He's one of those kids who's always looking elsewhere rather than where he's actually going and you can actually hear imaginary 'la-di-da-di-da' as he sort of skips along. He's fun to watch because he's always carrying a stick or a light saber or a toy. Today, he made a point of stopping in front of my car just as I was about to climb in and go back to work. He said, "I live in that house with the porch back there" as he pointed...at his house...which is next to mine. I smiled politely and nodded and said, 'good job'. I think it's my new standard response. He's a sweet kid but very head-in-the-cloudsy. Also, he just seems to stroll off at any given time. I'm sure his parents know where he's going but I sometimes pass him just 'la-di-da-di-daing' at the end of the street which is quite far from home for a seven-year-old.

But it is nice to live on a street with neighbours. Even though the Dog Whisperer's beasts continue to yap continuously, I now know that it doesn't just bother me because Larry, the possible-serial-killer told me. He likes to go to the neighbours and have a gossip so I trust him on this. Even with the awkwardness that is caused by meetings with Larry, I still enjoy the fact that I have a neighbourhood now. It's coming up on a year since I bought this place and it's unbelievable how my life and priorities have changed. It's much better than living in an apartment where every spanking sounds through the floorboards and there's a stray student needing a ride to his ice-skating lessons.

Now that summers here, the neighbours are out and about and there's nothing more fun that peering at a neighbour through the window. In my family, it's a time-honoured family tradition going back at least as far as my great-grandmother who would stand at her windows and stare out, peering behind the net curtain. I found myself doing this the other night as Larry strolled by on an evening jaunt. I couldn't help it. When I realized what I was doing, I realized that perhaps its a genetic trait. Either that or I'm just nosy.

But there's nothing really wrong with that...right?

Happy Tuesday!

Unwanted Help in the Garden...

Today began in a stormy manner, quite literally. As I drove to work, the rain was coming down heavily and as I settled at my desk for the day, the thunder began to crash outside. I worried a little about the puppies; they're not afraid of storms, per se but they don't like them and get a little restless. I figured they were safe in their crate and they had each other for comfort.

The day cleared up around mid-morning with only a slightly stifling humidity left as a result of the storm. I wouldn't be surprised if we have more storms tonight and tomorrow- that's the only thing that's going to break the humidity and the stickiness in the air.

Since I thought it would rain all day, I hadn't planned on working in the garden tonight. Last night, I worked like a fiend to get all my flowers planted.

Unfortunately, the puppies had other ideas about 'gardening'. While I weeded last night, I found them having surreptiously dug up one of my new perennials- a pretty yellow flower that made me happy to look at it. Fortunately, I was in time to rescue it and I replanted it, adding rocks around the base to deter digging.

I should have known that wasn't enough. While I was indoors, cleaning up a little, Rory was helping me with my gardening. By the time I went out, my yellow flower was no more. I'm sad about it. I really liked that flower. Last week, it was a dianthus that I lost due to Sookie's compulsion to dig.

I suppose I can't really be angry. I mean, they see me pulling up weeds, digging in the garden for hours. Perhaps they really thought they were helping. They can't tell the difference between a burdock and a coreopsis. I've tried to make Rory and Sookie a hole of their own in which to dig but, instead, they're returning to the site of the late yellow flower and making it's former home an even bigger hole. Perhaps I should plant another rose there, something spiky that will deter digging.

Of course, it doesn't help that the Dog Whisperer came out tonight. Lately, he's been driving me crazy by coming home from work, letting his yappy beasts out and then leaving them outside for two hours which, generally, is the two hours that I want to work in the garden after work. I don't know if he thinks it's my fault for leaving my puppies out but, as I've mentioned before, my puppies don't bark.

However, I have to admit, my puppies are rather good rabble rousers. I've watched them and they seem to take great pleasure in running up and down the fence, making the Dog Whisperer's canines chase them, barking, naturally, the whole time. My puppies, however, are silent. They just like to wind up the neighbour's dogs. Then, at other times, Sookie will sit calmly in our garden, about five feet from the fence where the Dog Whisperer's beasts are barking like mad. She will just watch them, as if knowing that she's the cause of the frenzy but not moving a muscle.

Then, Rory will pounce on her and the two will tussle around the garden, doing this weird friendly-growling thing at one another with the occasional yip. This, of course, drives the Dog Whisperer's pets rather crazy.

So, while I think that the Dog Whisperer should definitely exert some discipline over his dogs and discourage them from barking, it's not like my pups are completely innocent. They're clever little things, knowing the effect they have but being smart enough to act like little angels.

Except, of course, when they dig up my flowers. It's sort of hard for them to look like little angels when they have dirt in their coats, and on their faces and their paws are filthy from digging.

Still, as I always say, they keep life interesting.

Reflections on Becoming an Adult....

I've said it before and I'll say it again...I have a horrible feeling I'm becoming a real grown-up. Ever since I got the house and had to start worrying about things like mortgages, grass clippings, dog whisperers and landscaping, I've noticed that I've started to morph into someone else, someone who is definitely an adult.

I think the puppies helped me with that. Even though they can't communicate like children and they're definitely not children, to me, they're the closest thing I have. I realized not long after I brought them home when I opened the door a crack to retrieve the mail and Sookie and Rory escaped that they were, for all intents and purposes, my babies. Sookie went running out, clueless as to the danger and my heart almost stopped as a car headed down our street and Sookie was closer and closer to the road. I finally grabbed her and Rory and pulled them inside. I was terrified. I realized that if I lost them, I couldn't stand it.

I like that I have a family to come home to, no matter how atypical it is. Even though I still enjoy human company a lot, there's something to be said, spending an evening in the garden on my knees, weeding, having two little warm puppies nearby, eating whatever stick they come across. Every now and again, they'll run to me and try to scramble on my lap and give me 'kisses'. It's a nice feeling.

The nicest part is that it makes everything else seem just a little...unimportant. My job is still just a job but now it's just a way for me to buy food for us and keep us sheltered. The politics of the office, the giggling girls who have strange power within the company even though they spend half their days gossiping just don't bother me as much as before. It still irritates me because it reminds me of high school but when I leave the office at the end of the day, I can go home and be welcomed by my pups and settle into my real life.

I always wanted to have a husband and kids. I always thought by this point in my life, I'd be settled. As a kid, it was never a consideration that at my age, I'd still be single. I want a husband but a recent foray into Match.com was a disaster- all I met were men who were unmarried because they were afraid of commitment. I can't be angry about that. After all, I was the same way until recently. I even went out with a chef but he turned out to be painfully arrogant, unemployed and rather bitter at the fact that he got fired from his last job.

I'd like to believe that it's not too late- that the husband is out there somewhere and we'll have kids. I just don't know. I've stopped worrying and stressing about it though. I admit, I used to look at every man who was friendly and wonder if he's married. I don't do that very much any more. I just assume they are and move on.

Still, for now, I'm not too far off from where I wanted to be: I have a house of my own with a lovely back garden ready for me to plant and nurture. I have two little canines who make my life strangely complete and I have a family who I actually like and enjoy spending time with. Oh, and I have published a book which isn't exactly too shabby.

All, I think I'm doing ok. It's not the ideal but usually the ideal isn't, well, as ideal as you hope anyway. I'm accepting my adult responsibilities and it's not as bad as I feared when I was younger. It's actually pretty fun for the most part.

In some ways, I hate that I'm a grown-up though. I no longer look at Hot Topic as a house of fun t-shirts. I see it as a place full of overpriced crap. I'm sad about that, in a way. I no longer think it's funny to drive like a maniac to get where I'm going quickly. I don't think it's smart to cross the street while texting. I think it's weird when little Amish boys carry cell-phones on their belts and buy video games at garage sales. And I find it exceptionally annoying when the dog whisperer's kid spends hours and hours bounching his basketball and trying to shove it through his kiddie-hoop which is actually shorter than he is...no joke.

I hope I'm not going to grow up to be a crappy old lady. Though from the paragraph above, it seems I might already be halfway there. Eek gads....maybe I should go listen to some Justin Bieber. I hear he's all the rage. Except, um, I'm not exactly sure who Justin Bieber is- I just hear his name a lot.

Maybe I'll just play with puppies instead. I think that'll keep me young.

Thanks as always for reading. Happy Tuesday!

The Strangeness of Dogs....

It's finally Friday. It's been an odd sort of week, not altogether bad but no altogether good, either.

Weather-wise, it's been an amazing week. It peaked at 82 degrees today. It hasn't been less than 70 degrees all week. The puppies and I have created a routine: At lunch, I go home, I uncrate them and they run free, rolling and lounging in the sun. Then, in the evenings when I get home from work, they play, I sit outside, enjoying the weather.

Unfortunately, our routine is going to change tomorrow. It's supposed to rain and cool down. This weekend it's supposed to be significantly cooler. I don't mind but I know the puppies will. I have learned that while they're almost completely housebroken, if it's wet and/or cold outside, they do not want to stay out there.

It's a challenge. Short of getting them both boots to wear, I'm not sure how to deal with this slight kink in the housebreaking routine. I think, in time, they'll get to the point where they don't care but, unfortunately, at the moment, they do.

It's odd the things that bother them. Tonight, they both cowered inside on my lap while our next door neighbour- not the Dog Whisperer but the other side- mowed his lawn. Yet they fearlessly explore the garden when there are other loud noises, far more disturbing noises, carrying on.

Still, as I always say, every is an adventure- both for them and for me. It's what makes life fun, I think. Some days, I wonder how I got by without the constant distraction that are the puppies. Other days, I think I must have been nuts to get them.

Yet it takes only seconds for me to realize that I'm always going to be glad I got them. They fascinate me. I've discovered that even with all the toys I've bought them, the attempts to discover what gives them the most entertainment, they're happiest with a 49 cent towel from IKEA.

We now have a game I call "towel". We go to the back garden and I wave the towel. Almost immediately, I have two little dachshunds clinging to it with their teeth. I try to pull it away, they clamp down. It's got the point where they refuse to let go and I can literally pick them up with the towel. It's a little alarming but they won't let go for anything, waging a never-ending tug of war with me.

It always ends. They usually end up somersaulting over one another to stay gripped on the towel but it only takes a slight distraction, such as a stick or a leaf and suddenly "towel" seems far less interesting. Of course, if I try to pick the towel up to tidy up the garden, they're immediately attached to it again.

I have strange dogs, what can I say? Yet, as I've said before and I'll say again, I wouldn't swap them for anything. Besides, people tell me I'm strange so I suppose we fit together, don't we?

Happy Friday and have a great weekend!