Okay, so I’m feeling guilty about my post from last Sunday, A Slow Learner. You now may have the impression my dogs are a bit dense. Maybe because I said so. But what we learned last week is that I, too, am a bit dense. Apparently we in this house are slow learners.
Having said that, it’s only fair to share both the foibles AND attributes of my 4 dogs and 5 cats. Now don’t get me wrong; rest assured the good outweighs the bad, which helps tremendously on days I want to pull my hair out. So here you go:…CALLIE, my 3-legged pup, is so loving my sister calls her Kissy-Lover because she drenches you in wet ones…When Skip drops his blanket off the end of the bed, and I’m too lazy to retrieve it, I say, “Callie, get the blanket!” She not only gets it, she brings it back to Skip which leaves us both thrilled.
Callie is fearful of most things…When there’s thunder or fireworks, she has to be ON me, not just near me. And she weighs 58 pounds…Callie eats dog poop in the backyard and sometimes brings it inside to snack on later. Continue reading →
I’m sitting here with my laptop actually on my lap while Wally sleeps on the ottoman. Thoughtful of him to let me have some of it, don’t you think? Anyway, you probably notice his belly band (aka diaper). Not exactly stylish but Amazon lost my order of fashionable diapers for him and Taffy, my other pup who also struggles with the concept of peeing outside.Having said that, I do have 2 other pups who recognized long ago that canines peeing in the garden is the preferable urinary etiquette expected by dog guardians who enjoy their home being pee-free. Two out of 4. Humm. Where did I go wrong?
Last week I wrote that the older I get, the less I care about how I’m perceived by others. I’m noticing that also goes for voicing my opinion, good bad or ugly. Apparently this whole aging thing has dulled my sense of concern in regard to what slips out of my mouth.
Now don’t get me wrong; I’m not condoning being rude or hurtful. Not at all. I’m just saying I no longer feel the need to remain silent when something strikes me as wrong, or to temper my response to please someone when I’m asked my opinion and it happens to be different from theirs.
Generally speaking, I think women (more than men) struggle with confronting friends when they have a criticism, even if it’s constructive. My women friends avoid this scenario at all costs because they don’t want to hurt someone’s feelings.Continue reading →
I want to scream. I’m talking the kind of scream where I throw myself on the ground like a 5-year-old having a tantrum, legs kicking wildly, arms flailing, red faced and near tears. THAT kind of scream.
So what could cause me, a normally even-tempered, happy-go-lucky gal to feel this way? Two words…a dishwasher. God help me (and everyone around me) if another of my appliances bites the dust. I’m at the point with this Bosch dishwasher that I’d throw it through a window if I could lift it. Which I can’t. So I won’t. Continue reading →
So I recently relocated 4 young ferals as mousers to a property that on the surface seemed perfect. Still, I entertained little nagging doubts about the owner of the 700 acre ranch, winery and B&B. Yes, he said all the right things but was it because he thought it’s what I wanted to hear? I wondered, but ignored my hunch because the place seemed perfect for feral mousers. And it was. But HE surely wasn’t.
We acclimate cats for 3 weeks in cages before releasing them. But when Mr. Jackass admitted he let the cats out after 10 days, he confirmed my reservations. Still, he assured me they were fine, eating a lot, everything’s hunky-dory…blah, blah, blah. So yeah, I wanted to believe him.
A couple weeks later I returned to collect our relocation supplies. That’s when I saw the magnitude of ignoring my hunch. Basically, the cats were starving. Turns out he barely fed them in the erroneous belief they’d be better hunters (the opposite of what I instructed). However, nobody can tell this guy anything so I immediately formulated a plan to recover the cats, knowing he’d resist.