the boy…he loves coffee…he’s a sly one…
the boy…he loves coffee…he’s a sly one…
Does anyone have a phone book I could borrow?
The weather in New York state is all but predictable. A few days ago I woke to find the thermometer reading -5 degrees. Holy shit, that’s cold even for a born and bred Northerner. Then, a few days later it’s a whopping 50 degrees. Yep, that’s right. And people wonder why I’m so cranky.
Since it had warmed up so much I figured it was about time that I took the rotting pumpkin off my front porch and threw it in the compost pile. I was finally able to make my way out the back door, across the deck (which now only has about one foot of compacted snow/ice on it as opposed to the 3 feet of snow it had on it a week ago) and out to the compost pile behind the garage. But…not without incident. You see, as I approached the steps leading down to the backyard my heel hit a piece of ice and WHHHHOOOOOSH! There I went. Sliding at full speed down the steps (which were actually more like an ice slide since I hadn’t shoveled them in months) and landing with a hard cruuunch on my ass. Ouch. Surprisingly enough, I didn’t drop the pumpkin. It was still planted firmly in my hands which meant that my ass took a terrible beating since I didn’t use my hands to break the fall. I started laughing, as I often do when I do something foolish and get hurt. Both of the dogs were outside and Gus came rushing to my side, licking my face as I laughed hysterically. I was still lying on the ground when I looked up to see this coming at me:
Yeah. Crazy. Ferocious. Dog.
Ridley gets spastic in the snow and it didn’t help that his mom was lying there laughing, holding a pumpkin. He came bounding toward me and pounced right on top of me. Barking and nipping like his Borderline Collie self. He then decided this was going to be a get-the-pumpkin game and started coming at me from all sides trying to pry the rotting pumpkin from my hands. This made me laugh even harder. And then it happened. I peed my pants. Oh, come on! Don’t tell me that if you fell on your ass into the cold, melting snow you, TOO, wouldn’t wet yourself!
By the time I got myself up and walked into the house, tears were streaming down my cheeks from laughing so hard. My child just looked at me, shook her head in disgust and in her motherly tone said, “What is wrong with you?” I didn’t have the heart to tell her the truth so I crept upstairs and hit the shower. Damn weather. Damn dogs. Damn bladder.
E and the dogs were playing with her friends in the backyard and one of the kids inadvertently left the gate open. Uh oh. We know what happened next. The dogs escaped and started running around the neighborhood. Fortunately, the kids were quick and snagged the pooches before they got too far. After the incident, E emailed my sister (her aunt) and my sis shared the email with me:
“When I saw the gate was open, I started to shake. I knew Gus would run and run and wouldn’t come back. I knew Ridley would come back to the sound of mom’s voice, because to Ridley, hearing my mom’s voice was like the voice of a sweet angel calling to him!”
Ridley has become obsessive about playing fetch. In fact, he insists that I play fetch with anything…including a zucchini. Yep. A zucchini.
Gus decides he wants to play, but he won’t fetch. Darn Labrador RETRIEVER. He watches, barks fiercely as I throw it and acts like he’s going to run after it. But no, he doesn’t move an inch, he just stands there and watches it land. Silly dog. This is how I spent my Saturday…playing zucchini fetch. Well, until the zucchini was fully eaten, anyway.
…than a basket of puppies? Absolutely NOTHING!
Five of the fluffiest, cutest, whiniest little creatures I’ve ever seen. Ohhh, puppers, puppers, puppers (that’s what I lovingly call them). I couldn’t keep my hands off of them. This is definitely my weakness. Puppies. Must.Acquire.More.Puppies.
My friend breeds Shelties and this is her latest litter. All are spoken for except for two girls. She just HAD to bring them to show me…and now I want one. Wouldn’t you?
Just look at those faces. Oh, my. I just wanted to bring them all home.
And this guy, what a ham! He’s the biggest of the pups…a strapping 5 lbs, and he’s only 7 weeks old (his mom only weighs 19 lbs.). He wouldn’t sit still so I HAD to hold him, and kiss him, and love him…and when he was bad I stroked his fur the wrong way.
That was my puppy fix for the week. I hope it gets me by. Oh boy. Like I need ONE more animal in my house. Oy. Must go find something to do so I don’t think of puppies…