I made Oriental Chicken Salad for dinner tonight .... one of my favorites. Unfortunately, its extremely humid here (or maybe only humid in my house!) and the ceramic bowl was wet. As I went to put it in the fridge, it slipped out of my hands, took a good bounce on the kitchen rug, and salad went everywhere.
Dang, I hate when stuff like that happens.
I simply opened the back door and let the dogs in. They had the whole mess cleaned up in about thirty seconds flat. So instead of having to pick up a gazillion oil-covered pieces of salad and nuts and seeds and ramen noodles and pieces of chicken, I just waited until they were done, then got down on my hands and knees with Clorox Wipes to clean off the floor.
If that disgusts you, well, you'll know not to accept any invitations to eat at my house.
As for me, it balances out the eating of the shoe and all is forgiven.
Showing posts with label Barley. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Barley. Show all posts
Friday, June 19, 2009
Saturday, June 06, 2009
Welcome to the next edition ...
...of WWBC 2009.
(in other words, "What Would Barley Chew?", a continuing series involving our dogs, Barley and Brew, and the innumerous household items they ravage during their time here.)
I don't think it requires any great stretch of the imagination to guess exactly what I thought this was on my bedroom floor when I rounded the corner.
I also don't think it requires any great stretch of the imagination to guess exactly what words came out of my mouth upon seeing this, the bewilderment about what on God's green earth they had possibly eaten to make them this ill, and envisioning the clean-up that would be required.
Never in the history of the world has a pet owner been so happy as to discover it was only a nerf football.
(in other words, "What Would Barley Chew?", a continuing series involving our dogs, Barley and Brew, and the innumerous household items they ravage during their time here.)
I don't think it requires any great stretch of the imagination to guess exactly what I thought this was on my bedroom floor when I rounded the corner.
I also don't think it requires any great stretch of the imagination to guess exactly what words came out of my mouth upon seeing this, the bewilderment about what on God's green earth they had possibly eaten to make them this ill, and envisioning the clean-up that would be required.
Never in the history of the world has a pet owner been so happy as to discover it was only a nerf football.
Friday, May 29, 2009
It's a Bird! It's a Plane! It's a ....
two-headed, eight-legged, rabid, vicious monster, taking up residence in our kitchen!!
Oh, wait. It's just Brew and Barley, hanging out with each other like they do every day.
And to think I worried about them not liking one another, Barley being jealous, or Brew not fitting in.
It should be duly noted that for every minute they spend lounging together, they spend four or five playing. Wrestling, jumping, snatching toys from one another, chasing, tail-wagging kind of playing . USUALLY early in the morning, either in my bedroom or on my bed, with ME STILL LYING IN IT, TRYING TO SLEEP.
Stinking dogs.
PS. I love them both dearly, in case you can't tell.
Oh, wait. It's just Brew and Barley, hanging out with each other like they do every day.
And to think I worried about them not liking one another, Barley being jealous, or Brew not fitting in.
It should be duly noted that for every minute they spend lounging together, they spend four or five playing. Wrestling, jumping, snatching toys from one another, chasing, tail-wagging kind of playing . USUALLY early in the morning, either in my bedroom or on my bed, with ME STILL LYING IN IT, TRYING TO SLEEP.
Stinking dogs.
PS. I love them both dearly, in case you can't tell.
Friday, May 08, 2009
WWBC?
Welcome to the first (official) Not Quite edition of "WWBC?" --- or, more affectionately known as, "What Would Barley Chew?" Or, "What Would Brew Chew?" --- the terms are basically synonymous, because as much as these two dogs adore one another and play, play, play all day long, they've also taught each other the bad habit of chewing anything that's not nailed down. Or, as we learned this week, even chewing a few things that ARE nailed down.
Evidence for the week of May 4th:
Scrubber brush for outdoor grill. I can only assume there were some meat drippings or fat particles or *something* on this brush because why else would one of them ingest four inches of wood? I seriously doubt dogs care that much about their fiber intake.
Noteworthy because: The brush was safely placed on top of grill, out of reach. How they got it? Who knows.
American Express card. Duly noted that this is a promotional American Express card, delivered in the junk mail. Not sure if the dogs are trying to make a statement about my spending habits, or just liked it because it was shiny.
Noteworthy because: I open all the mail, and don't recall ever seeing this arrive. Beginning to suspect dogs are going outside, opening mailbox with their little paws, and taking items for themselves.
Various pens and pencils located God only knows around the house. Pens and pencils left ANYWHERE in the house are automatically fair game. Primary culprit: Barley. I can only assume she is stealing pens in an attempt to write her own ransom note, hoping to find a new family, preferably one that can afford a *real* American Express card.
Noteworthy because: Despite losing at least a dozen writing instruments, the human people in this house are still surprised every time it happens.
Shoe. Again. This is like, the fifth pair. Yet do my children think it might be wise to actually put their shoes AWAY when they take them off their feet? No, they do not. So prepare to see lots more shoe photos in future editions of "WWBC?" And prepare also to see the Escoe kids going around town barefoot because if they can't be bothered to put their shoes away at night, then I can't be bothered to buy more.
Noteworthy because: it's not noteworthy at all. They're shoes. They smell like leather and feet -- of course dogs love them.
Scarf. A gift to Brayden, and the one chewed item she is most annoyed about. Especially considering it was hanging from a hook in her locker, exactly where it should be, and apparently the dogs grabbed hold and dragged it out before chewing a hole in it.
Noteworthy because: It's such a fluffy, poofy scarf that I suspect she can still wear it and the hole won't even be noticeable. Also noteworthy because if these dogs are smart enough to grab a scarf, hanging from a hook, then they're smart enough to grab a dishtowel hanging from the refrigerator door, and bring me a Diet Dr. Pepper, right? Let the training begin!
Water jug. First, we took a plastic bowl outside to fill with drinking water for them, and they dragged it out into the yard and chewed it up (photo unavailable). So we bought a stainless steel water bowl, which they also dragged into the yard and dumped out all the water. Worried that they would go the entire day without water if that behavior continued, I bought this one-gallon water jug that you fill, and place upside down in its own bowl, and the water-pressure keeps the bowl full. Or some other scientific-y explanation like that. I filled it, placed it outside, and when I returned half an hour later, this is what I found.
Noteworthy because: I paid $15.99 for this water jug and bowl. They tore it up in less than half an hour. According to my calculations, that provided entertainment to our dogs at the impressive rate of $32.00 per hour, or $768.00 per day. I think next time I'll just by another nyla-bone for ten bucks and be done with it.
And thus ends this week's edition of "WWBC?" Tune in next time to see what other various and sundry household items the dogs have claimed for themselves and chewed into pieces .... we can only hope they chew up the vet bill from the exploratory surgery I have no doubt is in their future.
Evidence for the week of May 4th:
Scrubber brush for outdoor grill. I can only assume there were some meat drippings or fat particles or *something* on this brush because why else would one of them ingest four inches of wood? I seriously doubt dogs care that much about their fiber intake.
Noteworthy because: The brush was safely placed on top of grill, out of reach. How they got it? Who knows.
American Express card. Duly noted that this is a promotional American Express card, delivered in the junk mail. Not sure if the dogs are trying to make a statement about my spending habits, or just liked it because it was shiny.
Noteworthy because: I open all the mail, and don't recall ever seeing this arrive. Beginning to suspect dogs are going outside, opening mailbox with their little paws, and taking items for themselves.
Various pens and pencils located God only knows around the house. Pens and pencils left ANYWHERE in the house are automatically fair game. Primary culprit: Barley. I can only assume she is stealing pens in an attempt to write her own ransom note, hoping to find a new family, preferably one that can afford a *real* American Express card.
Noteworthy because: Despite losing at least a dozen writing instruments, the human people in this house are still surprised every time it happens.
Shoe. Again. This is like, the fifth pair. Yet do my children think it might be wise to actually put their shoes AWAY when they take them off their feet? No, they do not. So prepare to see lots more shoe photos in future editions of "WWBC?" And prepare also to see the Escoe kids going around town barefoot because if they can't be bothered to put their shoes away at night, then I can't be bothered to buy more.
Noteworthy because: it's not noteworthy at all. They're shoes. They smell like leather and feet -- of course dogs love them.
Scarf. A gift to Brayden, and the one chewed item she is most annoyed about. Especially considering it was hanging from a hook in her locker, exactly where it should be, and apparently the dogs grabbed hold and dragged it out before chewing a hole in it.
Noteworthy because: It's such a fluffy, poofy scarf that I suspect she can still wear it and the hole won't even be noticeable. Also noteworthy because if these dogs are smart enough to grab a scarf, hanging from a hook, then they're smart enough to grab a dishtowel hanging from the refrigerator door, and bring me a Diet Dr. Pepper, right? Let the training begin!
Water jug. First, we took a plastic bowl outside to fill with drinking water for them, and they dragged it out into the yard and chewed it up (photo unavailable). So we bought a stainless steel water bowl, which they also dragged into the yard and dumped out all the water. Worried that they would go the entire day without water if that behavior continued, I bought this one-gallon water jug that you fill, and place upside down in its own bowl, and the water-pressure keeps the bowl full. Or some other scientific-y explanation like that. I filled it, placed it outside, and when I returned half an hour later, this is what I found.
Noteworthy because: I paid $15.99 for this water jug and bowl. They tore it up in less than half an hour. According to my calculations, that provided entertainment to our dogs at the impressive rate of $32.00 per hour, or $768.00 per day. I think next time I'll just by another nyla-bone for ten bucks and be done with it.
And thus ends this week's edition of "WWBC?" Tune in next time to see what other various and sundry household items the dogs have claimed for themselves and chewed into pieces .... we can only hope they chew up the vet bill from the exploratory surgery I have no doubt is in their future.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Clearly Stressed
I'm really worried about our new dog, Brew. I'm afraid he's just not comfortable here yet.
I mean, you can plainly see that he's stressed to the max. All this tension can't be good for him.
How long must he fret and worry that the kids don't like him? That the other dog doesn't like him? How long must he carry around this burden of anxiety???
I just hope he learns to relax before he gets an ulcer.
I mean, you can plainly see that he's stressed to the max. All this tension can't be good for him.
How long must he fret and worry that the kids don't like him? That the other dog doesn't like him? How long must he carry around this burden of anxiety???
I just hope he learns to relax before he gets an ulcer.
Thursday, April 09, 2009
Monday, March 30, 2009
Brew-baker. Brew-tus. Brew-ster.
Yep, I knew it wouldn't take anyone long to guess ..... my friend Lisa from Georgia not only guessed, but got his name right as well, based on my post label from the "dog lumping" entry.
Introducing the newest member of our family (which is now closely starting to resemble a zoo around here, although I did put my foot down FIRMLY at Brayden's request for a pet rat yesterday ...)
Brew.
Blaine and I had always said we would have two dogs .... we bought Barley and then, quite frankly, just got lazy. Too much food required, too much maintenance, too much brushing, too much vacuuming .... in all honesty, the primary deterrent, in my opinion, was that there would be TOO MUCH POOP in the back yard.
Barley seemed perfectly content being the only dog for our family. She got plenty of attention and love, but a funny thing happened .... after we brought Blackie the cat inside and made him a house-cat (which by the way, is still going swimmingly) we realized how ..... how .... how .... how pathetic and lonely Barley must really be!
She would try SO HARD to play with the cat, and the cat was all, "Hummph. I am superior to you. Go away." It was quite ridiculously sad, actually.
And we realized that although we love Barley dearly, she was spending a large number of hours each day, mainly while the kids are in school .... alone. Sad and lonely. So we decided a playmate was in order.
Wow. This was pretty much the best decision we ever made.
We went to the local no-kill shelter and explained we needed a dog that was good with kids, good with other dogs, AND good with cats. Kind of a tall order, but we were hopeful. We had taken Barley with us, and the first dog they brought out promptly growled at her, and was so (head)strong I could barely control him on a leash. Sorry, "Chester", you weren't the one for our family.
The next dog they brought out seemed nice enough, the kids liked him, there was no obvious dissension between he and Barley .... but I don't know. It just didn't feel like "the one" ..... so, keeping "Ronald" on our maybe-list, we asked for one more.
Then they brought out this guy, who they were calling "Walter". I doubt he's full-blood, but at least looked mainly like a chocolate lab .... calm, gentle, leash-trained, didn't lick, didn't jump, sat quietly and let all of us pet him .............. granted, he and Barley didn't have much to do with one another, but hey, by that point she had discovered the pond at the dog park next door and she wasn't having anything to do with ANYONE who wasn't throwing a stick in for her retrieve time and again. So we played with "Walter", watched him interact positively with the other dogs at the park, watched one dog lump a lot of other dogs, and decided we would give it a go.
And so we brought Walter home, re-named him Brew, and promptly fell in love.
Kellen asked, "What is his middle name?" And I replied, "Ski". Yeah. Because we're still classy like that.
Our vet says he's about two years old and in good health .... sadly, he had spent the last five months in the shelter, and they had no idea how long he had been in the pound before that.
With only a few accidents he appears mostly house-trained (hey, you can't be angry when they haven't figured out where the back door is yet) and the first few days he was extremely calm.
The shelter had a 7-day return policy, and at the end of the 7-days, I announced to the kids, "Well, I've decided to keep Brew because he's better behaved and return Barley-the-spaz!"
Now, almost two weeks later, he is definitely coming out of his shell. The tail is wagging all the time, he initiates petting, and is playing more with toys .... although he still completely cowers if anyone raises a voice, which makes me wonder about the life he had before the pound (and makes me cringe a little on the inside ....)
Best of all, he and Barley are fast buds. Wrestling, jumping, running, playing tug of war ....... it's been a great reminder to us that two dogs are better than one, everyone needs friends, and our only regret is that we didn't do this months ago.
ALTHOUGH!!!
We've noticed, as he's coming out of his shell, that it appears they didn't feed him much at the shelter. I mean, how else could you explain hunger like this:
A book:
A whole set of books!:
A boot:
And the age-less, time-less classic ...... the dog ate my homework:
(Yep, that's Kellen's "creative paper doll project" due this week .....)
Needless to say, yesterday afternoon saw us at Petsmart, buying some additional, more appropriate chew toys. And thinking perhaps we shouldn't leave them inside the house without direct supervision.
Introducing the newest member of our family (which is now closely starting to resemble a zoo around here, although I did put my foot down FIRMLY at Brayden's request for a pet rat yesterday ...)
Brew.
Blaine and I had always said we would have two dogs .... we bought Barley and then, quite frankly, just got lazy. Too much food required, too much maintenance, too much brushing, too much vacuuming .... in all honesty, the primary deterrent, in my opinion, was that there would be TOO MUCH POOP in the back yard.
Barley seemed perfectly content being the only dog for our family. She got plenty of attention and love, but a funny thing happened .... after we brought Blackie the cat inside and made him a house-cat (which by the way, is still going swimmingly) we realized how ..... how .... how .... how pathetic and lonely Barley must really be!
She would try SO HARD to play with the cat, and the cat was all, "Hummph. I am superior to you. Go away." It was quite ridiculously sad, actually.
And we realized that although we love Barley dearly, she was spending a large number of hours each day, mainly while the kids are in school .... alone. Sad and lonely. So we decided a playmate was in order.
Wow. This was pretty much the best decision we ever made.
We went to the local no-kill shelter and explained we needed a dog that was good with kids, good with other dogs, AND good with cats. Kind of a tall order, but we were hopeful. We had taken Barley with us, and the first dog they brought out promptly growled at her, and was so (head)strong I could barely control him on a leash. Sorry, "Chester", you weren't the one for our family.
The next dog they brought out seemed nice enough, the kids liked him, there was no obvious dissension between he and Barley .... but I don't know. It just didn't feel like "the one" ..... so, keeping "Ronald" on our maybe-list, we asked for one more.
Then they brought out this guy, who they were calling "Walter". I doubt he's full-blood, but at least looked mainly like a chocolate lab .... calm, gentle, leash-trained, didn't lick, didn't jump, sat quietly and let all of us pet him .............. granted, he and Barley didn't have much to do with one another, but hey, by that point she had discovered the pond at the dog park next door and she wasn't having anything to do with ANYONE who wasn't throwing a stick in for her retrieve time and again. So we played with "Walter", watched him interact positively with the other dogs at the park, watched one dog lump a lot of other dogs, and decided we would give it a go.
And so we brought Walter home, re-named him Brew, and promptly fell in love.
Kellen asked, "What is his middle name?" And I replied, "Ski". Yeah. Because we're still classy like that.
Our vet says he's about two years old and in good health .... sadly, he had spent the last five months in the shelter, and they had no idea how long he had been in the pound before that.
With only a few accidents he appears mostly house-trained (hey, you can't be angry when they haven't figured out where the back door is yet) and the first few days he was extremely calm.
The shelter had a 7-day return policy, and at the end of the 7-days, I announced to the kids, "Well, I've decided to keep Brew because he's better behaved and return Barley-the-spaz!"
Now, almost two weeks later, he is definitely coming out of his shell. The tail is wagging all the time, he initiates petting, and is playing more with toys .... although he still completely cowers if anyone raises a voice, which makes me wonder about the life he had before the pound (and makes me cringe a little on the inside ....)
Best of all, he and Barley are fast buds. Wrestling, jumping, running, playing tug of war ....... it's been a great reminder to us that two dogs are better than one, everyone needs friends, and our only regret is that we didn't do this months ago.
ALTHOUGH!!!
We've noticed, as he's coming out of his shell, that it appears they didn't feed him much at the shelter. I mean, how else could you explain hunger like this:
A book:
A whole set of books!:
A boot:
And the age-less, time-less classic ...... the dog ate my homework:
(Yep, that's Kellen's "creative paper doll project" due this week .....)
Needless to say, yesterday afternoon saw us at Petsmart, buying some additional, more appropriate chew toys. And thinking perhaps we shouldn't leave them inside the house without direct supervision.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
A day in the life ...
Barley: "Seriously. Have you ever seen anything as cute and lovable as me? Say it. Say it out loud, that I'm the most precious thing you've ever seen."
Barley: "I am playful and full of energy and how could *anyone* not want to be my bestest, bestest, very bestest friend???"
Blackie: "You are a waste of oxygen and I mock your vapid playfulness. Please go away you stupid creature, and leave my new family all to me, as the clearly superior animal that I am, the way God intended it."
Barley: "Come on! We can totally play together! I'll even share my toys and wag my tail and pant excitedly to show you my friendliness! And if you really want, I could chase you and jump on you and knock you down and slobber on you, just like I do the human people in this house!! Please?! Please?! Pretty-pretty-prettttyyyyyyyyyyyy pleeeeeeeeaaaaaaaassssseeeeeeeeeeee?!?!?!?!?"
Barley: "Hey, here you are! I was looking for you in the living room to show you my new chew toy and you disappeared ..... what are you doing here in the bedroom? Wanna play? Huh? Huh? Do you, do you, do you????"
Blackie: "I am warning you, miscreant. You are venturing far closer than you have the right. I prefer never to see your goofy face again. See the mighty cat teeth --- consider yourself warned."
Barley: "Hey, look! You're smiling at me! We're going to have great fun and get to be life-long friends ..... I just know it!!!"
Blackie: "I can't take it any more, you stupid, demented dog! Your kind is an affront to humanity and I will use my superior cat paws to put you in your place!"
Barley: "Oh, shit. He's going all ninja-cat-warrior on me."
Blackie: "I will batter your stupid, ugly dog ears, until you get it through your thick skull that I am better than you, since you clearly don't hear me telling you to LEAVE ME ALONE!!!"
Blackie: "And then I will batter your stupid, ugly dog nose so you quit sticking it in places that don't belong to you! How DARE YOU touch my silky, heavenly fur and sniff me with that disgusting snout? Surely by now even someone as pathetic as you will get a clue."
Barley: "That hurt, man. That hurt me, real bad. And I don't mean my nose .... I mean it hurt me --- inside. Despite my slobber and rough-housing and muddy paws everywhere, I'm still a sensitive soul .... with feelings. Why does that evil cat have to be so mean???"
Barley: "I think I'll just sit here with my human person and chew on some shoes to make myself feel better. While I'm at it, can anyone tell me why the human people have so much trouble putting away laundry? Every time I come in here to chew on shoes there are all these tempting clothes in baskets but I get in trouble for eating any of it. What's up with that???"
Barley: "And listen to me, cat creature, I know some day I will be triumphant and you will give in and be friends with me! Who can resist adorable-bandana-ness as this??"
Blackie: "Oh, for pete's sake. I'm hiding under this bed until that dense creature figures it out and LEAVES ME THE HELL ALONE."
*********************************************
PS. For the record, the 3am games of tag-you're-it-no-tag-you're-it in my bedroom --- and sometimes even on my bed --- WHILE I'M SLEEPING IN IT --- tell me that the two of them are actually becoming very good friends.
Thursday, January 08, 2009
Clearly Stressed
"Barley here. I just have to say, this is a very hard time for me. First I receive the unfair (and completely UNTRUE, might I remind you) accusation on Christmas morning that I ate my human boss's fishing card --- again, NOT TRUE. Then yesterday were the hurtful accusations that I ate my human littlie's pencil. Ok, maybe *that* one was true, but if they're going to just leave these perfectly good snacks lying around where I can reach them, I hardly think I'm to blame.
There was yelling when I ate the cheese pizza, then lots of sighing and eye rolling when I threw up under the dining room table last night, and yesterday the boy-child in the house was out in the backyard with me, playing keepaway with my plastic chew-donut, while his older sister picked up the poop. (Hey, don't blame me, a dog's gotta go somewhere.) Suddenly I heard shrieking and laughing and the boy was rolling around on the ground clutching his stomach ... the source of their amusement? The giant rubberband they found in my poop!
Clearly, I cannot take the stressful and unhealthy atmosphere in this house. I don't feel I get any respect. The girl-human-boss even spelled my name wrong in yesterday's blog --- although, in her defense, spell-check didn't catch it because it *was* a word. Whatever.
My point is I am clearly stressed. I am nervous, and constantly looking over my shoulder. Obviously, I am getting no rest, as I am always recuperating from .....
........ok, well, maybe I look a teensy bit relaxed in this picture. Maybe things aren't quite as bad as I made them out to be. Maybe I was busy digesting another pencil ......."
There was yelling when I ate the cheese pizza, then lots of sighing and eye rolling when I threw up under the dining room table last night, and yesterday the boy-child in the house was out in the backyard with me, playing keepaway with my plastic chew-donut, while his older sister picked up the poop. (Hey, don't blame me, a dog's gotta go somewhere.) Suddenly I heard shrieking and laughing and the boy was rolling around on the ground clutching his stomach ... the source of their amusement? The giant rubberband they found in my poop!
Clearly, I cannot take the stressful and unhealthy atmosphere in this house. I don't feel I get any respect. The girl-human-boss even spelled my name wrong in yesterday's blog --- although, in her defense, spell-check didn't catch it because it *was* a word. Whatever.
My point is I am clearly stressed. I am nervous, and constantly looking over my shoulder. Obviously, I am getting no rest, as I am always recuperating from .....
........ok, well, maybe I look a teensy bit relaxed in this picture. Maybe things aren't quite as bad as I made them out to be. Maybe I was busy digesting another pencil ......."
Wednesday, January 07, 2009
Revolutions
Kendrie: Hey, mom, guess what. We made New Years Revolutions in class yesterday.
Kristie: Oh, really? What's that?
Kendrie: It's when you make a promise to do something for this new year.
Kristie: No, I know what a revolution is .... (too cute, how could I correct her?) What I mean is, what was yours?
Kendrie: I am going to read more, and I am going to make sure Barely always has food in her dog bowl so she won't be hungry and so she quits eating stuff around the house she shouldn't.
Kristie: Well, I think those are both really good plans.
Approximately five minutes later, Barely ate Kendrie's new mechanical pencil. ATE. IT. We were able to pry a sliver of orange plastic and an eraser nub out of her mouth.
Looks like Kendrie's New Years Revolutions aren't going any better than my own.
Kristie: Oh, really? What's that?
Kendrie: It's when you make a promise to do something for this new year.
Kristie: No, I know what a revolution is .... (too cute, how could I correct her?) What I mean is, what was yours?
Kendrie: I am going to read more, and I am going to make sure Barely always has food in her dog bowl so she won't be hungry and so she quits eating stuff around the house she shouldn't.
Kristie: Well, I think those are both really good plans.
Approximately five minutes later, Barely ate Kendrie's new mechanical pencil. ATE. IT. We were able to pry a sliver of orange plastic and an eraser nub out of her mouth.
Looks like Kendrie's New Years Revolutions aren't going any better than my own.
Monday, December 15, 2008
Not so much anymore
You remember I posted a week or so ago about once upon a time there was a cute, cute, cute widdle doggy named Barley, who was tall enough to stand on her hind legs and reach the kitchen counter, and once there she ate seventeen chocolate chip cookies? And how once we realized she would be ok (because she then promptly proceeded to throw up all seventeen cookies on my bed) that we had to admit that despite her mischevious ways, she was really all about the cuteness? Do you remember that?
Well, fast forward to Saturday morning. One of my nephews had spent the night and being the dutiful aunt and mother that I am (snort) I got up and made chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast. I always make a triple batch so we have some to freeze and re-heat on school mornings ................. this time, not only did Barley stand up on the counter in order to eat some of the chocolate chip pancakes, but she somehow knocked one of my ceramic plates onto the ceramic floor and CRASH!!! Plate shards everywhere. Hmmmm. That really wasn't so cute.
Now, fast forward to last night. I had taken Brayden to an afternoon matinee of Twilight, and ate my weight in Milk Duds, so didn't feel like cooking. Actually, what I felt like doing was barfing. Definitely not cooking. So I stopped by Papa Murphys on the way home ...... put the pizzas on the counter after they were done cooking so everyone could help themselves ..... (you see where this is going, don't you?) Freaking dog ate HALF A CHEESE PIZZA before we realized what had happened. I swear, we really do feed her, and I swear even more that one of these days I will clue in and start pushing the food to the back of the counter. Or maybe on top of the refrigerator, since that might be the one place left on earth she can't reach. The cuteness? Not so much anymore.
Neither of our other dogs, both of whom were taller than Barely is now and could have easily reached the kitchen counter, ever did. I'm just not accustomed to having my dinner snatched right out from under us like that. Begging? Accustomed to. Digging stuff out of trashcans? Accustomed to. Eating the crotch out of dirty underwear??? TOTALLY accustomed to. But we've never had food taken right off the counter.
But still, even despite those things, despite the fact the cuteness was wearing thin, I still was not as angry with her as I was at 11:30 last night, when I blearily and wearily climbed in bed, relieved to have finished paying bills, and licking all the Christmas envelopes and thinking of the busy day ahead, only to discover that at some point during the evening, Barley had apparently jumped up and urinated all over my side of the bed. Through the comforter, through both sheets, through the mattress protector, and left a big wet puddle on the mattress.
It was, in all honesty, the first time in the four months that we've had her that I regretted getting her at all. And in fact, I might have said something along those lines to Blaine, raising my voice and flailing my arms about wildly. Well, or as wildly as you can flail your arms when you're stripping the (#*$&#*(& sheets off the #($*#&(*& bed. And then I started talking about how this was total passive-agressive behavior on her part, in retaliation for the scolding she got from me after the pizza. Notice whose side of the bed she pee'd on???
I know. It was irrational and grumpy and rude. But in my defense, I was tired, and perhaps suffering from Milk Dud poisoning.
Well, fast forward to Saturday morning. One of my nephews had spent the night and being the dutiful aunt and mother that I am (snort) I got up and made chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast. I always make a triple batch so we have some to freeze and re-heat on school mornings ................. this time, not only did Barley stand up on the counter in order to eat some of the chocolate chip pancakes, but she somehow knocked one of my ceramic plates onto the ceramic floor and CRASH!!! Plate shards everywhere. Hmmmm. That really wasn't so cute.
Now, fast forward to last night. I had taken Brayden to an afternoon matinee of Twilight, and ate my weight in Milk Duds, so didn't feel like cooking. Actually, what I felt like doing was barfing. Definitely not cooking. So I stopped by Papa Murphys on the way home ...... put the pizzas on the counter after they were done cooking so everyone could help themselves ..... (you see where this is going, don't you?) Freaking dog ate HALF A CHEESE PIZZA before we realized what had happened. I swear, we really do feed her, and I swear even more that one of these days I will clue in and start pushing the food to the back of the counter. Or maybe on top of the refrigerator, since that might be the one place left on earth she can't reach. The cuteness? Not so much anymore.
Neither of our other dogs, both of whom were taller than Barely is now and could have easily reached the kitchen counter, ever did. I'm just not accustomed to having my dinner snatched right out from under us like that. Begging? Accustomed to. Digging stuff out of trashcans? Accustomed to. Eating the crotch out of dirty underwear??? TOTALLY accustomed to. But we've never had food taken right off the counter.
But still, even despite those things, despite the fact the cuteness was wearing thin, I still was not as angry with her as I was at 11:30 last night, when I blearily and wearily climbed in bed, relieved to have finished paying bills, and licking all the Christmas envelopes and thinking of the busy day ahead, only to discover that at some point during the evening, Barley had apparently jumped up and urinated all over my side of the bed. Through the comforter, through both sheets, through the mattress protector, and left a big wet puddle on the mattress.
It was, in all honesty, the first time in the four months that we've had her that I regretted getting her at all. And in fact, I might have said something along those lines to Blaine, raising my voice and flailing my arms about wildly. Well, or as wildly as you can flail your arms when you're stripping the (#*$&#*(& sheets off the #($*#&(*& bed. And then I started talking about how this was total passive-agressive behavior on her part, in retaliation for the scolding she got from me after the pizza. Notice whose side of the bed she pee'd on???
I know. It was irrational and grumpy and rude. But in my defense, I was tired, and perhaps suffering from Milk Dud poisoning.
Thursday, December 04, 2008
Stupid .... uh .... me.
You know how you sometimes get a nuturing urge, and want to do kind things for your children? (yeah, doesn't happen much around here, either ... but every now and then ....) so while they're at school you break open one of those break-apart cookie packages and whip up a batch of chocolate chip cookies?
And because your feeling of love and warmth extends to your husband, as you're walking out the door to pick the kids up from school, you let him know that there are warm chocolate chip cookies cooling on the counter, and he should help himself.
And then you return from the school, and glance over at the cookies, only to realize Holy Cow! Your husband ate a ton of cookies ... so many cookies, you hardly have enough for the damn kids! So you count, and realize there are only seven cookies left. Seven out of twenty-four.
Stupid husband.
So you walk into the living room, scowl on your face, and ask your husband the oh-so-innocent question .... "why the hell did you eat all the cookies???"
When he replies, with a surprised look on his face, "I didn't eat any cookies" .... it will take you just a second for the truth to sink in.
Stupid dog.
Ate SEVENTEEN COOKIES off the kitchen counter! And yes, even though she's barely six months old, she is big enough to stand on her hind legs and eat anything you have stashed up there. Good thing to keep in mind for the future.
And maybe, just maybe, there is a little part of you that thinks she is still a cute dog, cookie-snatching tendencies and all ... I mean, look at that widdle face, she's such a cutie widdle doggie with her cute widdle puppy {chocolate chip} breath ....
Until she hops on your bed and yakks all over your bedspread.
Stupid dog.
Excuse me, I have three loads of bedding to take care of.
And because your feeling of love and warmth extends to your husband, as you're walking out the door to pick the kids up from school, you let him know that there are warm chocolate chip cookies cooling on the counter, and he should help himself.
And then you return from the school, and glance over at the cookies, only to realize Holy Cow! Your husband ate a ton of cookies ... so many cookies, you hardly have enough for the damn kids! So you count, and realize there are only seven cookies left. Seven out of twenty-four.
Stupid husband.
So you walk into the living room, scowl on your face, and ask your husband the oh-so-innocent question .... "why the hell did you eat all the cookies???"
When he replies, with a surprised look on his face, "I didn't eat any cookies" .... it will take you just a second for the truth to sink in.
Stupid dog.
Ate SEVENTEEN COOKIES off the kitchen counter! And yes, even though she's barely six months old, she is big enough to stand on her hind legs and eat anything you have stashed up there. Good thing to keep in mind for the future.
And maybe, just maybe, there is a little part of you that thinks she is still a cute dog, cookie-snatching tendencies and all ... I mean, look at that widdle face, she's such a cutie widdle doggie with her cute widdle puppy {chocolate chip} breath ....
Until she hops on your bed and yakks all over your bedspread.
Stupid dog.
Excuse me, I have three loads of bedding to take care of.
Friday, November 21, 2008
We are Classy
I'm not sure which of these things shows the true measure of the caliber of fine folk we are .....
The fact we've had bedroom furniture sitting by the curb outside our house this week waiting for the freecycle people to come pick it up .....
Or the fact we had to hang a carpet runner out to dry on the fence today after Barley pee'd on it. **
Hello, Escoe family? The Clampett's called .... they'd like their house back.
**And can I just tell you that after she pee'd on the carpet in the hall, she ran upstairs and pee'd on the twin mattress we had sitting on the floor, waiting for the *new* bedroom furniture to arrive .....
Apparently, the house-training is not going quite as well as we thought.
"whaaaaat? I is innocent, I tells you. Der's no proof it was me. I bet you one of those kids pee'd on de mattress. Probably de little one."
The fact we've had bedroom furniture sitting by the curb outside our house this week waiting for the freecycle people to come pick it up .....
Or the fact we had to hang a carpet runner out to dry on the fence today after Barley pee'd on it. **
Hello, Escoe family? The Clampett's called .... they'd like their house back.
**And can I just tell you that after she pee'd on the carpet in the hall, she ran upstairs and pee'd on the twin mattress we had sitting on the floor, waiting for the *new* bedroom furniture to arrive .....
Apparently, the house-training is not going quite as well as we thought.
"whaaaaat? I is innocent, I tells you. Der's no proof it was me. I bet you one of those kids pee'd on de mattress. Probably de little one."
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
High maintenance
"My life is obviously filled with stress."
"Clearly, I am riddled with anxiety."
"Now, could someone pass me a doggie biscuit, please?"
"Clearly, I am riddled with anxiety."
"Now, could someone pass me a doggie biscuit, please?"
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Faces
Picture Kendrie’s face: “Mom! Barley just bit a hole in my brand new school shirt!”
Picture Barley’s face: “You can’t even be mad at me because I’m so cute!”
Picture Mom’s face: “Not right now you’re not. And yes I am.”
Picture Barley’s face: “You can’t even be mad at me because I’m so cute!”
Picture Mom’s face: “Not right now you’re not. And yes I am.”
Saturday, August 09, 2008
How we almost killed our dog the first week we had her
Besides her penchant for using my bedroom carpet as her own personal bathroom area, Barley seems to be settling in pretty well here. I'm a little worried she's never going to learn to walk considering the kids fight over who gets to carry her, 99 percent of the day, so her legs are rarely used.
The biting and nipping are quickly losing their charm, but on the plus side, she's already mastered the command to sit. Obviously, she's brilliant. (Must come from my side of the family.)
But Blaine and I both noticed the past few days that she acted as though she didn't feel well. And every time we would take her outside to use the restroom, or play, she was eating an inordinate amount of grass.
First we thought it might be that she was having trouble simply getting accustomed to dry dog food ... then I worried she might have been Neutro-intolerant. She was happy, and playful ... but then one of us would take her outside, she'd eat a bunch of grass, and ralph a few minutes later. Usually as soon as we brought her back in the house. Lovely.
The kids even asked, "Are puppies supposed to throw up this much? Because Fosters and Lager sure didn't!"
This morning, Blaine came back inside and informed us he knew why she had been acting weird, and eating so much grass. Apparently the vomiting episode this morning finally dislodged what had been bothering her --- a large mass of shiny silver fabric. Almost .... disco-y, Blaine said. What on earth had she eaten???
We couldn't figure it out for quite a while. None of the kids have any clothes like that, nor are any of my bath towels or bath rugs (her favorite items to chew) silver. We looked around, and looked around, and finally Brayden figured it out.
Barley sleeps at the bottom of the stairs. That's also where she stays if we are going out and she'll be home alone. We put up baby gates to keep her from climbing the stairs or going into the rest of the house ..... and to make sure she wasn't too lonely, the kids put a giant stuffed dog in the space .... with a ginormous shiny silver fabric bow around its neck. Or at least there *used* to be a ginormous shiny silver fabric bow around its neck. The only thing around its neck now is the knot, because that's the only part Barley didn't eat.
So, apparently we're out of the running for "Pet Owners of the Year" after only one week. Hmmmm, wonder what's next? Leaving rat poison out for her to nibble on? Accidentally putting bleach in her water? Or worse, leaving her alone with Blackie, who hisses at her every time the two of them encounter one another.
The biting and nipping are quickly losing their charm, but on the plus side, she's already mastered the command to sit. Obviously, she's brilliant. (Must come from my side of the family.)
But Blaine and I both noticed the past few days that she acted as though she didn't feel well. And every time we would take her outside to use the restroom, or play, she was eating an inordinate amount of grass.
First we thought it might be that she was having trouble simply getting accustomed to dry dog food ... then I worried she might have been Neutro-intolerant. She was happy, and playful ... but then one of us would take her outside, she'd eat a bunch of grass, and ralph a few minutes later. Usually as soon as we brought her back in the house. Lovely.
The kids even asked, "Are puppies supposed to throw up this much? Because Fosters and Lager sure didn't!"
This morning, Blaine came back inside and informed us he knew why she had been acting weird, and eating so much grass. Apparently the vomiting episode this morning finally dislodged what had been bothering her --- a large mass of shiny silver fabric. Almost .... disco-y, Blaine said. What on earth had she eaten???
We couldn't figure it out for quite a while. None of the kids have any clothes like that, nor are any of my bath towels or bath rugs (her favorite items to chew) silver. We looked around, and looked around, and finally Brayden figured it out.
Barley sleeps at the bottom of the stairs. That's also where she stays if we are going out and she'll be home alone. We put up baby gates to keep her from climbing the stairs or going into the rest of the house ..... and to make sure she wasn't too lonely, the kids put a giant stuffed dog in the space .... with a ginormous shiny silver fabric bow around its neck. Or at least there *used* to be a ginormous shiny silver fabric bow around its neck. The only thing around its neck now is the knot, because that's the only part Barley didn't eat.
So, apparently we're out of the running for "Pet Owners of the Year" after only one week. Hmmmm, wonder what's next? Leaving rat poison out for her to nibble on? Accidentally putting bleach in her water? Or worse, leaving her alone with Blackie, who hisses at her every time the two of them encounter one another.
Sunday, August 03, 2008
Shell-Shocked
"Um, what exactly has happened here???"
"Where exactly did my mother go? And my brothers and sisters? And *who* exactly are these little people who keep picking me up and carrying me around???"
"And what's up with that tall lady who keeps rushing me outside and making me potty in the grass? Oooh, look, new toys .... squeakers and tug of war ropes and nylabones and hey look! A big red bottle that squirts and says 'pet stain removal' on the side ... wonder if I can play with that, too?"
"Where exactly did my mother go? And my brothers and sisters? And *who* exactly are these little people who keep picking me up and carrying me around???"
"And what's up with that tall lady who keeps rushing me outside and making me potty in the grass? Oooh, look, new toys .... squeakers and tug of war ropes and nylabones and hey look! A big red bottle that squirts and says 'pet stain removal' on the side ... wonder if I can play with that, too?"
Monday, July 28, 2008
May I Introduce ......
Barley middle-name-to-be-decided Escoe
******************************
UPDATED TO ADD:
>>>>Ryley asks:
p.s. Do dogs have to have a middle name??? My dog doesnt have one.. am I a bad mom?????????? >>>>>>>>
Ryley, no, you are not a bad mom! Barley will be an AKC registered dog, so we have to select her full name to put on the registration papers we send in. We can technically name her whatever we want, and call her something completely different, of course. Typically, however, the kennel name is used as the first name. Since we bought Barley from a family and not a breeder, we won't use a kennel name at all, but would still like her to have three names. Unless we absolultely can't think of one, then she'll be plain ole' Barley Escoe.
********************************
We spent almost an hour last night visiting and playing with Barley and her five brothers and sisters. It should come as no surprise to anyone that hands down, Barley is the sweetest, cutest, friendliest, smartest dog of the bunch. (And I'm sure the families that were there before us, and the families that were there after us, all feel the same way about their own puppies.) (But they are wrong and we are right.)
We will be bringing her home on Saturday. That means we have one week to buy all the necessary dog paraphernalia, think of a middle name, remember the proper way (or shoot, I don't care if it's proper, so long as it's successful) to house train a puppy, and try to constrain our children's emotions and excitement because "is it Saturday yet? Huh? Is it? Is it? How many days until Saturday? How many hours until Barley comes home? Can we bring her home early? Huh? Can we? Can we??? How many hours? How many days?" to infinity.
It also means I have only one week left to enjoy my dog-hair-free house, sitting on a dog-hair-free sofa.... enjoying my dog-poop-free backyard, and walking around town in clothes not completely covered in dog fuzz. One hour of playing with the pup last night and I looked like Sasquatch.
Thank goodness she's cute, or it wouldn't be worth it.
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