Puppy sitting or sitting on puppies

We have in residence for a few days a rambunctious puppy named Alex.

He is a cute little furball who thinks that we are chew toys and personal servants.

Due to his visit, Gypsy is once again polishing up  her best teeth and offering up her finest holiday growls to this tiny interloper who thinks everything is his and  his alone. Gypsy is educating  him otherwise.

New to the world, this little dude has been treated like a furry sultan. Due to injury to his leg and pelvis, he was shunted away to the animal  hospital at the hands of Beth, who has ensured he received proper treatment for his injuries. Concern for his healing and care has prompted the miniscule mutt to be in residence at the Merrill Mutt Motel.

Alex is learning to do his potty chores outdoors. We've had a few accidents on the way to potty training, but that is normal with a puppy just like with a kid. The only difference is that generally there isn't a lot of additional laundry in the attempt until the mangy mutt pees on my slippers. Not cool, Alex, not cool at all!!

Alex has developed a taste (pun intended) for cooking shows on PBS. He cocks his head from side to side trying to discern what the various chefs are attempting to prepare. He sometimes barks at the screen. I believe this to be his way of saying "HEY!! Don't put booze on that steak!" I wholeheartedly share his sentiment.

Alex has also learned that the radio is not some sort of mutant life form. The first day or two, he wasn't too sure about that as he glared at the radio with a jaundiced eye, wary of where those tiny music producing Christmas violins might be hiding.  

The other night, we discovered he had left a "holiday gift" beneath Jared's bed. The aroma was sufficient to lead  us right to the unwrapped present. Alex  had the nerve to smile and laugh his puppy laugh about it.

While I have received some "interesting" gifts during the Christmas season, I can  honestly say this is the first time I wanted to give one back. Well played, Alex, well played.

I'm sure in his tiny evil puppy heart, he was planning on blaming the mess on Jared... or Gypsy. But wise to the ways of wicked pups, Gypsy quickly refused the blame and barked directly on Alex' head.

Out to the pen in the yard to finish emptying the "poop valve" which is apparently attached to a secretly enclose 10 gallon tank, you would have thought we were beating Alex with all the pitiful howling and barking he was doing. The neighbors even came over to see what the ruckus was. Bad dog!

Once they saw Prince Pig in the pen doing  his best "feel sorry for me" impression, they were as unmoved as we were. No one let him  out until his potty chores were complete - for the moment.

Gypsy has been pretty good shepherding Alex around. He now knows that the door out to the back yard is the "potty door". Easily navigating the steps up and down, he is able to go out without us having to carry him like a sack of spaghetti.

What is it about children and dogs??? You pick their formerly solid frame up to relieve the "potty dance" before disaster strikes (generally after a bit of trickling has begun!) and suddenly they are like a Ziplock of Jell-O that no longer  has either bones or the will to move on their own!!

The other day, as Gypsy had decided she had been patient enough with Alex chewing on her and barking and attacking her, she simply sat on him... and smiled. It was like "kid, you bother me". Hilarious! Reminded me of when Nana was guesting in our home and was learning the ropes from the old hand, er, uh, make that old paw.

Right now, the house is deceptively quiet.

Both hounds are sleeping.

It won't last.

Soon, the pizza guy will show up at the nursing home across the street and the revelry will begin. Gypsy HATES the pizza guy. His truck has an annoying whine that must hurt her ears. Plus, he never even offers her so much as a crust from the pizzas.

Then, when the barking starts, Alex will attempt to show you just how big and bad he is. Tiny mouth screwed up into the perfect little "O" he will bark and howl  his bad to the bone self into exhaustion.

Always funny to watch.

Back to the chores of the day. Best let sleeping dogs lie.  They won't be there long.

Depends on circumstances

While talking with my friend Sophie about the weird stuff that graces the shelves each holiday season, we got to the theater of the absurd moment.

She was at a store and some woman had on a shirt boldly emblazoned with the following "Sometimes I laugh so hard I have tears running down my leg!"   The implication is that one has managed to pee a bit while laughing and since that is a malady that affects a lot of folks, I can't imagine advertising it. However we all know that there are those kinds of persons who would advertise other bodily function if given less than half a chance.

Of course, if you worked for the Depends company, that might be considered a worthy slogan for product sales. They could give away free t-shirts with every few packs purchased.


Since the folks at Depends have come out with their recent line of colored and patterned briefs for incontinence to make people feel less conspicuous by wearing something that is alleged to be fashionable, I'm quite sure other innovations are coming.

For years, they've had a 'wetness indicator' to help caregivers assist those less able to be freshened up. But what if you are able-bodied, just not always sure if you've "gone" or not? You can't exactly walk around unzipping to see if the color change stripe is blue. People would notice. And if you duck into the bathroom a gazillion times to check for undue moisture, those Depends can and will rip to shreds leaving you pants-less.

The answer is an auditory alert! No ordinary alert however. Mere beeping or buzzing would be embarrassing. After all, this is a technological age and we can do better.

From the second you start to go, a seasonal medley will begin to play. The undies can be crafted to be seasonally relevant and thus play music accordingly. I'm sure no one would notice the music coming from your pants since a lot of people have mp3 songs for ringtones on their cell phones. They would just figure you for one of those clueless folks that doesn't remember to shut off their phone in social settings. You then have the perfect alibi for a quick change... "I've gotta take this..." you mumble absently and leave the room. Everyone would understand. Or at least they'd THINK they understand.

Just imagine - the spring floral print Depends can play "Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head" or "April Showers Bring May Flowers".

Christmas Depends could offer a selection of songs like "Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let it Snow" or maybe a nice "Do You Hear What I Hear" for those moments of sound effects related embarrassment.

Halloween patterned undies could sing a time honored classic "Thriller". Anyone who saw the creepy music video from that song when it first came out surely had the pee scared out of them.

The ideas are virtually limitless. It could open up a whole new market. There could even be a sensor that would wirelessly connect to your personal mp3 player to run through your own chosen medley of songs that remind you when you gotta go... you could cue it to play the GO-GO's.

Or, for those who have things sneak up on them, it would play "Born to Run"...

Wonder if that idea would help with our rising generation of 'connected kids'. It could help them potty train.

And folks, you have just witnessed what happens when a mind becomes a terrible thing that went to waste.

Happy trails.

This is your morning wake-up call!

Feeling tired is a facet of my being.

I see myself coming and going some days and wonder why that tired, harried looking woman doesn't get a nap.

This morning is no exception to that rule thanks to a 3 a.m. wake-up call from Daddy. He doesn't mean to do it, but when he gets his days and nights confused or looks at a clock that no longer really makes sense, he calls.

So 3 a.m. it is...

He is sorry he called. He thought it was three in the afternoon and wanted to know where I was.

I assure him that it is indeed the middle of the night and that he can go back to bed. Deferring that explanation to another time, he is more concerned about his new cell phone being charged up and getting the phone book restored in it. Ostensibly, this is so that he can use it to wake OTHER people. I digress...

After convincing him it REALLY is 3 in the blessed a.m., he hangs up and I attempt to go back to bed. It doesn't happen. Rather than keeping Rick from any sleep, I go to the guest room to struggle out the rest of the time until the alarm sounds.

As per usual, I go to make Daddy his breakfast, he's only two blocks from me and for right now, that is a good thing. Were Daddy to be in residence here, things would likely get ugly. Between Jared's sleeplessness and Daddy's, someone would always be running on empty and I'm reasonably certain that the phrase 'walking dead' would take on a whole new meaning.

When I let myself in, there sits Daddy, fully dressed and chipper and raring to go. Yeah. Having already cooked himself some grits (enough for three people - he only at some of them), he declines to have me make his usual breakfast tray.

We spent our morning time sorting out his phone and correcting phone numbers that need to be either deleted from the memory bank or edited to reflect changes. I realize now I forgot to change Thomas' cell phone number, but that may be for the best. No college student who is working, going to school and trying to sort out married life needs to lose even more sleep than they already do.

I'm not sure what it is about Daddy's dementia that brings on the odd periods of daytime and nighttime confusion. Nor do I understand about Jared's condition creating the same alternate reality of wakefulness. What I am sure about is that when it happens, there are days that BOTH of them are off track and it makes for some pretty exhausting days for me. They don't seem to mind.

Oh well. I guess this just means I have more time to get the laundry done and contemplate whether to make the oatmeal raisin cookies for the Relief Society meeting tomorrow. I know if I lie down the phone will begin to ring... Murphy's Law dictates that to be true.

Daddy once told me that Murphy was an optimist. Based on  how my life runs sometimes, I'm fairly certain that is true. Murphy also apparently didn't believe in sleep because sure as God made little green apples, I will get 3 a.m. wake up calls so long as Daddy is able to grab a phone and reach out and touch someone.

Thanks for Friends

The most valuable things in life are not measured in monetary terms. The really important things are not houses and lands, stocks and bonds, automobiles and real state, but friendships, trust, confidence, empathy, mercy, love and faith. --- Bertrand Russell V. Delong ---

It has been my blessing through my life to have many people with whom I have exchanged friendliness. Some have come for relatively short stretches of time and others have, like the fragrant blossom of the magnolia, lingered around gently and light throughout my life thus far.

While it is truthfully said that our immediate family are those to whom we look as we find our first friends, those others who hold a special place within our hearts that we gather as chosen blossoms become as family.

When I review the passing of the years in the gathering lines of age on my once youthful countenance, I count more valuable the people in my life who are the cause of the laugh lines that have carried me through the hardships of life and who have made possible the remembrances of all the joys that have been mine.

From family and the laughter and love shared through that closely knit and gently cared for fabric of our lives to the addition of those who are woven in until you cannot distinguish blood from choice, friendship is a great blessing and privilege of mortality that extends through the veil of this mortal life through eternity. 

I cannot imagine that vast gathering of souls in God's big house with empty seats where the people who have made life worth living. It would be counter to the joy that is heaven. 

Although thanksgiving often has murmured expressions and prayers of gratitude for THINGS, I feel overwhelmed for the PEOPLE who have come into my life. Like the lyrics of the song "For Good" from the musical "Wicked", there are simply some people in life who come and place a gentle "hand-print on my heart". 

 

From them, the phone call is never to early or too late. The laughs comes easily and are genuine. Tears sometimes flow and the spirit of friendship is renewed in the simplest things. Time doesn't matter and distance doesn't count when friendship is the medium of exchange. It is the rarest blessing and the greatest happiness we can relate to on a daily basis.

Thank you to my friends. God has granted me the most gracious boon. From you, I have learned and grown and with you I have shared both the good and the bad. To you, I owe my deepest thanks, for you have endured all the facets that I am and still consider me your friend.

May God bless all of my friends and grant unto them the most sacred and righteous desires in their  hidden heart at this special season of gratitude. My friends most certainly deserve His blessings for they have enriched and blessed me. 

Happy Thanksgiving!