Rainy Days and Rope Toys

I can hear the pitter pat of rain drops before I’m even out of bed. “Great!” I say to myself, “soon enough mama is going to get up, put on her shoes, put on my leash, and take me out in this!” It hardly seems fair that she gets to go potty in a special room and I get to go potty out in the rain.
What I really want to know is…what the heck are we going to do with the REST of the day??

Hmmm, mama? Hmmmm??

oOo!! Looks like we’re making rope toys for me an’ Analaigh to play with. We LOVE rope toys. Mama must have a millionty dollars because whenever we use up one BAM another takes it’s place!!

(No, Rose, not a millionty dollars…it’s FREE!! Love, Mama)

Here is how we make them…

1) Lay out an old tee-shirt. The larger, the better

2) Cut off sleeves.

3) Cut shirt in 4 parts. I cut up the sides along the seam all the way to the collar and up the center (and back) to the collar.

4) Gather collar and hold in place for braiding. (By using the collar at one end, the rope is longer because only 1 knot is needed to end it)

5) Take left-most strand and moving over, under, over braid to end.

6) Secure end with a knot.

7) Send to Quality Control for inspection

8) Voila!

Tug responsibly!!!


A Post-Op from Rosiebear

Dear World,
I’ve got a super major question. W. T. Eff. happened? One day, mama’s all fun-like and taking me out to roll around in the dirt because like it’s totally fun to roll around in the dirt.
And plus also, I look adorable when I turn my whites browns so that I can match my big sister.
But the next day, mama takes me one this ubs early carride which is totally fine and all ‘cept I knew something fishy was going on. She left my big sister at home. She NEVER does that. Never, never. For realz. We always go everywhere together. Or mama leaves us behind but she only does that whenever she does boring things. I know because she’d never do fun things with out me an’ Analaigh. Yeah, so ubs early carride. Had the windows down and the wind whipped through my ears it was great…uhm, right up until my mama handed me over to some person I didn’t know and then she left me. LEFT ME! Like forever, or overnight, whichever is longer. And while she was GONE and I was ALONE someone pricked me with pins, stuffed me with drowsers, and then CUT OPEN MY LEG! Oh and also, while I was asleep someone shaved my butt. Mama was gone, my leg was cut open, and my butt was naked. So seriously…W. T. Eff!
Don’t you worry, though. When mama FINALLY came back to pick me up (after a millionty hours in that place) I made sure to give pittiefulness as MUCH as possible.
I didn’t let Analaigh off the hook either. What kind of “big sister” is she? She spent a millionty hours with mama while IIIII was getting my butt shaved off.
I’m feeling better mostly and mama keeps taking me back to that place where they shaved my butt (but I don’t let her leave me there, no way Jose!) and they took the metals out of my leg. Yeah, they put metals in my leg and made me wear a lampshade on my head. Naked butt and a lampshade. UGH!!! Anyhow, the metals are out and I don’t hurt as much but I like to make mama remember who is boss and I found that this face works the best…

Restless Nights

As the night creeps on I finally put myself to bed.
Computer, off. Book, closed. Phone, silenced. Eyes, shut.
It’s 11 o’clock.
Tick tock.
Awake I lay with my eyes closed relaxing all the muscles in my body to lull myself to sleep.
It’s 12 o’clock.
Tick tock.
Flip off the covers.
Pull out my trusty notebook and pen.
Write yet another version of a graduate school essay.
The words now written down.
It’s 1 o’clock.
Tick tock.
My eyes aren’t even heavy.
Headphones, in. Music, on.
” ‘Cause there is no guarantee that this life is easy.”
How can I quiet the noise in my head?
When can I find a restful sleep?
The answer is simple:
Let go of that which you have no control.
Take in hand that which you do.
It’s 2 o’clock.
Tick tock.

Working Class Hero by John Lennon

As soon as you’re born they make you feel small
By giving you no time instead of it all
Till the pain is so big you feel nothing at all
A working class hero is something to be
They hurt you at home and they hit you at school
They hate you if you’re clever and they despise a fool
Till you’re so ****ing crazy you can’t follow their rules
A working class hero is something to be

When they’ve tortured and scared you for twenty-odd years
Then they expect you to pick a career
When you can’t really function you’re so full of fear
A working class hero is something to be

Keep you doped with religion and sex and TV
And you think you’re so clever and classless and free
But you’re still ****ing peasants as far as I can see
A working class hero is something to be

There’s room at the top they’re telling you still
But first you must learn how to smile as you kill
If you want to be like the folks on the hill

A working class hero is something to be
If you want to be a hero well just follow me

I woke up with this song playing in my head. Considering the decision to leave my very real, very serious full-time job has recently been made (and acted upon) so that I can really figure out what I want to do that will really make me happy…it seems appropriate.

‘Cause Mama Said

Dear Diary,

Mama took me to that place again where that man is. It was a lot better now that I knew him and the place. Last week was our first time going, it was just me and mama. Mama says that Rose has to stay home when we go see the man. Mama says not to worry about Rose getting left out because Rose is having surgery on her right crucial lig’ment next week and then she and mama will have loads of one-on-one time during her recuperation.

So when we met the man basically it was boring. Mama took me to meet him and then just sat there, right on the couch, IGNORING ME!! and answering the man’s questions. Last week when we left mama said we had homework to do but it wasn’t hard or anything. Mostly just regular stuff like mama makes us do all the time like sitting for food, hugs, going outside, coming inside, getting in the car, or getting out the car there’s always so much sitting, I always do better at this than Rose but I’m older and wiser so that makes sense. Some other homework was more for mama than for me. The man showed her some tricks about making some sounds and doing some gestures that help mama talk to me in a way I understand better than when she says WERDS. The man wants mama to make sure I always know that she’s in charge and if anything is ever too scary or confusing I can just go to mama and she’ll tell me what to do. One night mama was working on her homework and Aidan was running and hollering about but I looked at mama and just knew that everything was going to be okay…and THEN Aidan snuck real close and gave me my first hug (from a little boy) and I wasn’t scared or anything…ya know, ’cause mama said.

Well, so this week we went back to the place to see the man. He’s a really nice man. He already knows how to talk in my language which isn’t really with werds anyhow. I know who’s in charge when he’s there and I know what he wants me to do and he helps me learn how I can do it…and then he tells me how beautiful and sweet I am. He is teaching mama how to talk to me, too. She is really bad at it. When mama tries to talk to me I don’t know exactly what she is saying or exactly what she wants me to do and it’s really, really confusing. I can feel that mama is really nervous and confused, too. But the man told me that he’ll teach her and then we’ll be talking to each other in no time at all. The man also said that mama is going to mess up, a lot, even when she understands better how to talk to me but since mama is in charge that EVEN WHEN she messes up she should never, ever let me know that she knows that she messed up. Mama is mama and what she says goes EVEN if what she says is wrong, silly, or confusing. The man says it is not my job to question mama, it is my job to be wrong with mama when mama is wrong and right with mama when mama is right. It is mama’s job to know the difference because mama is mama.

When the man had me sitting and moving into place, I was focused on him so much I forgot mama was even in the room (the man is mesmerizing!). I felt so strong, confident, and sure sitting (in place) at his (left) side. I felt big and beautiful. Chest out. Ears up. Attention focused. When it was over and I could look around again, I saw mama standing there looking at me wiping tears from her eyes. I could tell they were happy tears – she was proud.

Strong. Confident. Beautiful.

I can’t wait to do this weeks’ homework and help mama. When the man’s not there, mama is the best thing around. She’s not as mesmerizing but she’ll get there…especially now that she’s home all day.

People, People, People: Oh Dogpark People

I’ve been out of sorts lately. Luckily for you I encountered a terrible human being this week just in time to write about them for our Wednesday People People People spot…luckily…

As you know – I like to take my girls to the dogpark from time to time – it’s good for them to be socialized with dogs and humans of all walks of life. Sadly, socializing them means socializing me and I need much more work in this area…

As we approached to enter the park, as is a rule in our family, the girls were sitting and waiting for me to enter the first gate to call them in. Gate 1 – check. We approached gate 2 and were again settling into a sit so I could enter the second gate and call them in. One girl is sitting, the other is sniffing marked fences and I noticed there are a handful of dogs who have come to greet us at the gate – my personal philosophy is that the dogs should not be allowed to crowd the gate to intimidate the newcomers but whatever…I know that once we enter the girls and I will do a lap around the perimeter, sniffing, meeting and greeting in smaller doses, and acclimating…

Almost ready to enter, I look up to notice (thankfully) humans have walked toward the gate to retrieve their pups to thin out the welcoming committee…

“Excuse me, I think you should try the other section – the one for smaller dogs.”

I look to the voice and realize this person is addressing ME! I look back at my 50 lb and 70 lb dogs and reply, “Uhm, we’ll be fine.”

“Are they young dogs?”

Confused at the relevance of the question and not sure what she’s getting at, “Yes” (well, kinda…Analaigh is 2.5 and Rose is 2, technically not exactly puppies I mean they don’t eat puppy food but they are still young…what is she getting at?)

“Yes, then you shouldn’t bring them in here.”

“We’ve been to dog parks before. They’ll be fine.”

“If you bring them in here, there is going to be a problem. I just know it. I know there will be problems.”

Now I’m pissed off. I don’t know if “there will be problems” because my dogs are pitbull type dogs but hers is a rottweiler so she can’t be profiling, can she? “We’ve done this before. We’ll be fine” (so please move yourself and your dog away from the gate so I can enter you stupid b—)

“So when there is a problem are YOU going to reach your hand in and break it up?”

“Yes. I will.”

So now part of me is thinking – I don’t even want my dogs to play in the same space as this woman but on the other hand I’m thinking I’ll be damned if I’m letting this woman bar me from entering this park with my dogs. I don’t know her, she doesn’t know me nor does she know my dogs. I’m stubborn, we enter and spend the next few hours in peaceful harmony with the occupants of the park…EXCEPT FOR THAT LADY’S DOG…who spent the rest of the time on his leash because he snapped at a few of the other dogs playing…

I just don’t get why people have to be so hateful and I sincerely wish I understood exactly what made this woman decide to be so with us…in any event, we haven’t gone back…so I guess she got what she wanted – me and my dogs to go away.

That’s fine…we don’t need anyone else!