Last night there was excitement here on my street. Some sort of stand-off with the police. Nothing serious but interesting to watch. Dogs were not happy with police officers out front or in the alley.
Tonight is the complete opposite. I’m watching Law & Order SVU and listening to them snore.
Tomorrow is the USMC birthday. Makes me miss Dad more than normal – if that’s possible
Wal-Mart after dark is always interesting.
Blue Bloods is my new binge watching show.
I wonder if it’s appropriate to have an Elf on the Shelf in a Catholic school. I’m thinking of putting one in my office.
I’ve been thinking Rocky hasn’t started showing his age – and today I noticed he’s limping a little when he walks. Then I remembered his 9th birthday is next week.
Love is . . . braving a torrential downpour to get your dogs from the kennel because they hate thunderstorms and you can’t bear the thought of them being away from you and being afraid.
Even though you hate driving in torrential downpours and talked to them the entire drive home because you didn’t want them to think you were as afraid as they were.
Things I think of while walking the dogs . . .
What in the world do I feed them that makes their poop stink so bad?
What is it about Millie’s personality that she has to be “first” to everything?
How awesome that Rocky is cool enough to let Millie always be the lead dog.
I think it’s hilarious that they remember the one time they found a cat under a big pine tree and have to sniff every time we pass the tree, they know when we get close to the house on the corner that has the dog that always barks at them, and which house their human friends with hugs and treats live at but they aren’t bothered at all to pass the house were the dog that attacked Rocky lived.
When the dogs sniff a spot and then have to pee on that spot, I wonder if that’s a dog version of Facebook. BTW . . . Millie ALWAYS has to get the last “word” in . . .
I learn something interesting from them every day.
The usual weekend routine is get up, feed the dogs, drink a cup of coffee . . . after I’m up for an hour or so, I throw on some clothes and walk the dogs . . . no make-up, don’t even comb my hair most of the time . . . no wonder I get funny looks when I run into people . . . but we’re normally out between 8 and 9 in the morning so we don’t see too many people.
Today was a little different in that we didn’t leave the house until after 10. What can I say . . . I was moving slow this morning . . . no biggie . . . a few people out but nothing out of the ordinary . . . until we cross the school playground and I noticed a car that did a u-turn to come toward us . . . and then I realized it was my ex-husband and his new wife. The dogs were excited to see him . . . and I was happy for that . . . and then I realized that I’m wearing an old and horribly wrinkled t-shirt, have on no make-up and I didn’t comb my hair before I left the house . . .
A little background . . . ex-hubby lives less than 5 miles from me but he is rarely in my neighborhood and I’m rarely in his . . . he was in the neighborhood at a yard sale and just happened to be driving by as I was out with the dogs . . . he didn’t recognize me but he did recognize the dogs . . .
I can only imagine the conversation that took place in that car as they drove away . . .
This is about the dogs . . . no, there isn’t a health crisis or anything to worry about . . . they are fine . . . each of them got a clean bill of health at their annual check-up . . . and I heard the “as they get older . . .” speech from Lovely Vet . . . and in my mind I’m screaming “they’re just puppies!!!”
But they aren’t anymore . . . Rocky is 8 and Millie is 7 . . . according to Lovely Vet that classifies them as “senior citizens” in the dog world. Rocky came to live with us in February 2009 – he was just shy of four months old. Millie came to live with us in April 2010 – she was about 8 months old. They were babies when they entered my life and, for some odd reason, I still think of them as puppies . . .
Millie has a touch of arthritis in her front legs and is getting some gray on her muzzle. She has gray eyebrows and a lot of gray hair on her belly. Other than that she’s still as active as a puppy.
Rocky is just generally slowing down. Getting pickier about what he eats, slower to get up in the morning, sleeping a little more soundly and harder to wake up sometimes. But let the dogs next door start barking, a cat cross his path, or a squirrel make a dash across the yard and he takes off like a puppy.
They were with me during the last months of my marriage to XH. They were by my side when I was learning how to be a single woman for the first time ever in my life. They happily embraced Prince Charming when he came to live with us. They were the reason I got out of bed a lot of the time after Prince Charming died. They have been the one constant in my life over the past 7 years . . . and I can’t imagine my life without them.
But . . . but . . . but . . . I know that day is going to come . . . and with them being so close in age and so attached to each other it’s entirely possible that I might lose them both at about the same time . . . something I can’t bear to think about . . . .
But today is not that day. Today they are chasing the birds, meeting the new puppy that lives behind us, introducing themselves to the new kittens that live next door (long story involving Lovely Neighbor Mike and his feral cat). But in the back of my mind I know that I need to think about this . . . and I do my Scarlett O’Hara impression . . . I’ll think about that tomorrow, for tomorrow is another day . . .
I’m trying to get back into the blog posting thing . . . but I don’t really have enough for a post on a single topic . . . so we have random thoughts . . . .
I usually feel guilty when I walk the dogs early in the morning and we make all the neighborhood dogs bark. Not this weekend though! The neighbors have been setting off fireworks for the last few days and scaring the crap out of Rocky. I figure that making the dogs bark before 9 am is suitable payback for the anxiety they are causing Rocky.
I really dislike fireworks – only because it upsets Rocky so much – so last night I hoped for rain to dampen the commotion in the neighborhood. Only to have a thunderstorm with thunder and lightning. Guess I better watch what I wish for, huh?
Millie pooped in the yard of the grumpy lady that complained about Rocky peeing on her dead flowers. Considering how upset she got over a little pee, I figured she’d go ballistic over poop in her yard. I don’t think I have ever cleaned up poop so fast in my life.
Apparently the parking lot of the elementary school at the end of my street is the “weekend party place” . . . I’m never surprised at the number of empty beer cans and liquor bottles I find on Saturday and Sunday morning.
I’ve been reading the articles about how you can tell when it’s too hot to walk the dogs, the damage that walking on hot concrete/asphalt can do to a dog’s paws. One article said, if it’s too hot for your bare feet, then it’s too hot for the dogs. I adjust our walking schedule accordingly so I don’t hurt Rocky’s and Millie’s feet and I’m patting myself on the back for being such a good dog mommy. But Rocky loves to sun himself on the deck and sometimes that part of the deck is too hot for me to walk across barefoot. Should I feel like a bad dog mommy for letting him sun himself like that? He doesn’t stay out there very long before he decides he needs to come in for some AC.