Dog Days

Roswell November 2008

Roswell December 2008

Roswell January 2009... note the glow of evil beginning in the eyes and the smirk she was already practicing at 6 months old.

Love her little heart, but our dog is driving us nuts. She barks like mad the minute anyone buzzes our apartment (think Seinfeld's building) and has a ferocious snarling fit when we have a visitor come in. She barks in the "hey, somebody is out there and I want you to know" tone everytime our neighbor goes in or out their door. This barking doesn't quiet quickly, though, and we worry about how that will fly with the office. Bobby and I have taken turns saying "we just need to get rid of her" while the other says "no, just a little more time". Sydney says we can't because she wants to keep her and "she is the best dog in the entire world." She says she would miss her and, damn it, that kid has a boo-hoo voice that will make you want to take on the world for her. We talked to the trainer at Petsmart today. I am going to try to scrape together the astronomical amoutn for the 8 week class. The trainer says that socialization will help her most of all and maybe we can get a 20.00 coupon. But it is still a hundred bucks...FOR DOG SCHOOL.

(Sidenote: ugh, I have heartburn. jambalaya with chicken, no shrimp, for dinner)

The money wouldn't be too hard to come by if we were getting our deposit back for our old place($415 plus $200 pet). Total B.S there. I cleaned the hell out of the place only to be told, "We still have to clean. The refrigerator is nasty (Uh, no it isn't. The freezer is not wiped out, because I concussed myself while cleaning the fridge and had to borrow ice from the neighbor because my head hurt so bad...and I forgot to clean the freezer) and the carpet is ruined with dog pee (um, another nope)." He says it smells like pee something terrible and the carpet is awful. No, the carpet is awful because it is from the 90s. I know the living room carpet doesn't stink because I laid on it after knocking the crap out of my head in the fridge a week ago while cleaning said dirty apartment. I felt like squatting and taking a leak right there so he would have a reason to complain about pee.

Ah, who am I kidding. I knew we wouldn't get the deposit back. You can just tell some things, you know? There were some scuffs on the wall that had to be painted over and the freezer was dirty (well, not dirty really, just some Popsicle residue and crumbs from some errant chicken nuggets I found when moving out). But, I would eat off the toilet seat, if I were asked to prove my cleaning skills. That house didn't "stink of pee" and if it did, the smell was in the upstairs bedroom where she had a couple of accidents. OH, my question is why did we pay a pet deposit? Wasn't it just for such a situation? And, hell, they charge the tenants a carpet cleaning fee when they move anyway. (which, btw, they never cleaned the guy next door's carpets before renting his place out and he still got charged) The nice lady living there now says she found a few pieces of dried dog poo here and there in a corner. Now what is up with that?? I never saw the landlord agonize over fixing up the place next door as he appeared to be today. The thing is, my carpet is that flat brown stuff. Every neighbor who came in at some point or another in 2 years said "Wow, your carpet looks older than mine. You should ask if they are going to put in the ... " was it Berber, they mentioned? Anyway. I think it was crappy to act like we left a pigsty when I am one of the most clean-freak folks breathing today. Hello! I was in therapy for years for Obsessive Compulsive Disorder! Freaking stress induced cleaning obsession! Argh. Well, water under the bridge and money in their pockets, I guess.

Roswell is sleeping beside Bobby on the bed right now. Bob is doing to work on his laptop and Tiny Trouble is curled up cozy beside him. Oh, how I wish for a big ol' mutt sometimes, but now isn't one if them. She is adorable. We spent some time in the big dog field (its huge!!) training today. Usually she won't respond to food treats outside of the house, but I have found her weakness. Bits of smoked pork from Red Pig BBQ. One small chuck got me through 30 mins of training today. Walk, turn, walk, stop, sit. Focusing on me the whole time. She did great. It was quite warm and when we got back inside, she flopped and napped in the patch of sun in front of the balcony. She has one more walk tonight before it is bedtime and I hope she can do it without threatening to eat one of the neighbors. Cross your fingers.

Uhaul and U unpack

Oh, so tired of boxes and of arranging, then rearranging because there wasn't enough room in the first place. I have yet to find all of my planners and calendars so I can compile them into one cohesive unit. I can only hope that I have remembered all that I have to do. It has been a madhouse, a madhouse around here.
The dog has objected to my new rule about not sleeping on the bed and she made that clear by shit-storming the dining room. Then, later, when she was to be walked she lost normal brain function (otherwise, why would she do this?) and peed as she waddled through the kitchen as Bobby approached her, leash in hand. She has made it her goal to bark ferociously at the neighbors (who don't seem quite fond of our tattooed selves with yippy, shitty dog and screaming, floor pounding child) every time she hears even the slightest sound from them.
I have a sprained ankle (when this happened, I dunno exactly) and I can't run with the 7lb diva, and Bob has almost exhausted his supply of patience. So, her walks are not as active as she would enjoy. We oscillate between getting rid of her and just taping her mouth shut. I am unsure of the genius in my idea to get a dog. Each day I am brought close to the "Call the DAMNED POUND NOW" shriek only to have a wet tennis ball (the miniature one) shoved into my hand. She doesn't want me to throw it, necessarily, but to hold it while she chews on it.
Tomorrow is my date with the Orthopaedic surgeon and I am excited about the improvement with my knee. I may have a few more shots in my future, but those I can handle since they help so much in the long run. PT was going well til I had to take a few days off for the move and subsequent muscle rebellion. Now I can't seem to find time to get back on schedule with them. Then the ankle swelled unreasonably large and we had a new problem to deal with. At least I am not on crutches again.
The old landlord won't call back so we can give them the keys and get our deposit back. I have to call and call again...and I will until I get what I want.
This life, I'll tell you, is rarely boring.

Gotta sign off. We're watching Snatch tonight. Mmmmmm, Mr. Statham, I love you. Angelina and keep Brad.

Bunny tails and moving boxes

Easter came and went. Our house is scattered with festive debris and the unfortunate scent of eggs enjoyed (thanks Bobby). However, I choose not to spend this blog describing foul odors. Several plastic eggs (only half of each) are tucked under the edge of the couch. Green Easter grass is here and there in the kitchen with one strand somehow ending up in the fridge. There is a tall chocolate bunny made less tall by the chomp that removed a fraction of his ears. Mr. Potato Head, dressed as bunny of course, stands on the coffee table with an arm where his bunny ears should be. Apparently, he now speaks through his nose which is plugged in where his toothy smile used to be. There is a CD on repeat that features the chicken dance and several about Easter bunnies (both chocolate and cotton tailed). Thanks E.B, bok bok. There is quite a load of candy since the Easter bunny and Pappy (my dad) went a bit overboard. The overabundance of candy has lead to some stealthy sugar consumption. Syd disappeared quietly last night to resurface with a mouth full of starburst and an Easter basket with tiny yellow paper pieces. It looked like a little mouse had begun a nest. She is very meticulous when tearing off a candy wrapper. Her breath smelled like fruit punch for a bit.
On Saturday night, we baked chocolate chip cookies and dyed eggs. Bob got great pictures which are unfortunately on his computer, not mine. I will load some in another post. The house is far too hectic to attempt the gathering now. There are boxes everywhere.
Moving day fast approaches. Wednesday is the big day. We are quite ready. Almost everything is packed and waiting downstairs to be loaded onto the truck. Bob has a photo project due and he is going to use our moving day. He has to tell a story with a series of photos. He is quite creative and has some good ideas. But, I think he is going to keep is basic. His end photo will be funny though, if all works out. OH! I want to move now!!! The weather is nice, I am energetic... and I want to move around without knocking a shin on a box!
Roswell was fixed on Friday. Well, I should say spayed because she was not broken. She has been resting and getting much, much baby-ing the last couple of days. She is so small and with no food for two days, she looked starved!! She is on the mend, though and appears to be plumping back out. She is still Ribs McGee, but she was always a little skin and bonesy. Syd is sitting in the floor right now singing to her about going to Walmart and Hooters....I thought she forgot about it. No, I did not take her there. Her Mimi (Bobby's mother) took her there. I have my opinions which shall be kept to myself about this. Whats done is done. Well, song has ended and Syd just got in trouble for picking on poor Ros. This action so endeth my blogging.
Pictures eventually. I promise.

After she got here

Maybe I have baby fever, but I had to share this too. First day home with my baby. Guess who will be three in 11 days! (Hint: its not the tall one in this pic.)

Memory Lane

A few pic from a couple weeks or so before Syd came along.

My first pic of my baby girl.

Syd and I went to Abby's baby shower on Sunday. She and Jon Bashor are expecting Henry to arrive May 9th or so. It was great to see another pregger princess. I miss it... a little. Mainly I miss being around pregnant ladies. There is nothing more interesting than seeing a belly move with little feet and arms inside. Well, nothing but seeing your own belly move.

I had to come home and watch this video again simply because it accents just how big my belly was. I am a terrible actress because I was going to pop with person and I have utter shame about that way I pronounce "Oh, God." at one point. But, this is still a treasured memory for us. Bob was trying to keep me from focusing on my big belly, restlessness and aggravation so we created a project. He was a doll for being creative with my bedrest. This is "Rude Awakening". It is a beautiful example of how it feels to be pregnant and unable to get comfortable, sleep, or simply be in your own skin sometimes.