Modern Dog Blog

This morning, when my pug decided to kiss my Persian cat on the face, their eyeballs nearly touched.

Posted on June 27th, 2008 by michelle
Filed under: My dogs, Not my dogs | 2 Comments »

When Redwood died I felt like someone had carved out my heart with a dull knife and then stomped what little was left of my soul into little tiny pieces. The emptiness was overwhelming. When Rowan died, it took me a full six months to come to terms with the fact that she really wasn’t going to be waiting for me on the couch when I got home.

However, my experience with death of humans is much more limited. I have known people who died, and known of people who died, but this is my first brush with the loss of family. The loss of one of my own. My grandfather died this weekend. I truly didn’t think that it bothered me much, seeing as how it’s been at least ten years since I’ve seen the man.

Apparently though, it is bothering me, as I burst into tears after speaking to my mom who had just left his funeral yesterday. Tonight, at a wedding of a friend, I was overwhelmed by memories of my first wedding - a long, long time ago in a land far away. Because the man I married was a complete idiot (but that’s a story for another time), my first dance at my reception was with my grandfather. He simply rocked. I had absolutely no idea that Grandpa was quite a rug cutter in his day - and he was such a good leader that he twirled and dipped me across that dance floor like a pro. It looked like I knew what I was doing, and I remember being breathless with the effort of trying to keep up. That is one of my best and favorite memories of that reception and of my Grandpa, one of those moments in a little girl’s life when you really do feel like a princess.

Grandpa had bristle brush short silver hair, a mustache, and his cheeks were always smooth for a little girl’s kiss. He had the required “grandpa belly,” and always seemed to be wearing the same old jeans and button up work shirt. He always smelled like coffee. I have good memories of Grandpa from when I was little. Even though I’m pretty sure Grandma was behind it, he always sent Valentine’s cards and little presents, with “Love, Grandpa” scrawled at the bottom in his chicken scratch writing. It never occurred to me at that age that he always remembered us, but his birthday was February 13th, and I don’t know that I ever sent him a card. Grandpa was always good for a hug, and quick to growl at you if you got in the way of his precious TV. He didn’t say much, but who would if you lived with Grandma?

I haven’t seen my grandparents in years. Mostly because in the last ten, I’ve had so many growing pains of my own that I barely had time for myself. In the last few years, I’ve selfishly not gone because I want to remember them the way they were years ago. When they were healthier, not so confused, and a touch less cranky. I’m okay with my decision, and am glad that I don’t have any images in my brain of my Grandpa being weak or, well, old.

In a weird way, I feel like one of my anchors has been pulled up. It’s the men in my life, my Grandpa, my Dad, my brother, and my uncles - John, Jeff, and Randy, who are my anchors. These are the men that watched me grow up, the ones who teased, tortured, and tormented me from the time they figured out they could teach a willing toddler all sorts of entertaining tricks. These men that I may not see or talk to for years, these are the men that I carry with me all the time. They shaped who I am, how I view the world, and it is them that I know I can turn to should any dragons need slaying or tires need fixing. It is them, that although some are far away, that create my safety net. It is they who are my family.

I miss my Grandpa. There is a little hole in my universe that can’t be filled by anyone else. Not that his passing will affect my day to day life in any huge way, just a little empty spot inside. Of course, the loss of one brings to mind the loss of others. That maybe, just maybe, your family, however dysfunctional and batty they may be - are still the people who have nursed you through growing pains and watched you navigate your little road in life. They are the ones who cheered you on when you succeeded, and laughed their asses off when you fell down. But that’s what family is for.

As my husband and I hang tight to our little family, and prepare for the arrival of our daughter; my hope for her is that she will have some of the same safety nets that I did. I hope she has a Grandpa who will think she hung the moon, an uncle who will torture her just a little, and a Daddy whose lap she will always be welcome on - even when she’s far, far outgrown it.

Grandpa, may you rest peacefully, at least until Grandma joins you. I salute you, old man, and am grateful for the family you raised. I have to laugh that you won in the end. Grandpa was a diabetic with erratic blood sugars. Now that he’s gone and family is cleaning out the house, they are discovering bags of M&M’s and boxes (the super size ones) of 3 Muskateers hidden everywhere. Erratic blood sugars my ass. You still rock.

Love, Michelle

Posted on June 13th, 2008 by michelle
Filed under: The Naked Part | 1 Comment »

There seem to be quite a lot of things no one tells you about being pregnant. The first is, well, it sucks. You have this great, romantic image in your head of how you’ll float through, glowing and thrilled, and your belly will be so cute and round. You will spend you days staring into a sunlit field while rubbing your tummy contemplating the joy of holding your perfect little slumbering infant who just makes you feel so complete. NOT SO.

Sure, you hear about morning sickness, but you don’t hear so much about all day sickness. No one told me about the super human sense of smell that you get during the first three months that enables you to smell the dishsoap in the kitchen when you are on another floor of the house. This same sense of smell that makes it impossible for you to get anywhere near the awesomeness that has always come out of your dogs, now you need help for the simple act of cleaning up poop. “They” also don’t tell you that all those wonderful hormones that enable your body to create another human are the very same ones that will make burp and fart not only with alarming frequency but also at deafening volumes. They don’t tell you that you won’t have anything resembling a normal digestive system, and if you have the luxury of actually getting to poop, you will be excited.

They forget to mention that when you do actually feel like eating again, there won’t be room in your stomach to actually hold a meal, you will be forced to pick at snacks all day long and never really feel like you ate.

For those of you who care, and follow this blog because you know me, I am now six months pregnant, and it’s a girl. We’re excited, thrilled, and stocking up on pink onesies, but let me tell you, this will be an only child.

I had imagined by now that I’d have a gently rounded tummy, you know, like you see in pictures. HA! Oh no. Instead I have enormous boobs - did you know that E is actually a boob size? - and my belly still looks like I drink too much beer. Some days you can actually look and tell that there is a baby in there, some days, I just look like I need to lay off the cookies already. And my ass. I’m convinced that that is where my baby is living. The days she’s not out front? She’s stretching out and doing yoga in the spare bedroom in the back, cause there’s room for her and a couple of friends back there.

Overall, I am not entertained. My legs swell up on a regular basis, the first time that happened I thought I was going to die. I’ve never had heartburn or been constipated until these last few joyous months. I’m more tired than I have words for, and while I am right on target for appropriate weight gain, I feel like a fat, slow moving slug. Seriously, if you could videotape my misery at this point, you could show it in high school sex ed and the teen pregnancy rate would fall through the floor. “They” tell you about how *sex* yikes, can make you *pregnant* gasp - with a baby. That is not scary. Having been a high school girl myself, you think, “oh well, a baby, no big deal. Being pregnant is cute, right?” Ha ha, let me talk to them about not pooping for four days and being unable to stop farting in public - that’ll make them think twice about climbing into the back seat with some sweaty high school boy. If only I had known…

Posted on June 12th, 2008 by michelle
Filed under: Pregnancy, Random run ins, The Naked Part | 1 Comment »

So I decided to take the doggies on a little trip to Wyoming. Why? Because my momma lives there and I thought I’d go and soak up some sun on her deck and let my beasties run like mad in her yard. Mom had two doggies also, both pugs, JB who is Jester’s younger brother by six months (let’s not even go there), and Piper, who is Teak’s half sister, younger by two years. That makes six dogs to hang out with while Mom goes off to work with humans.

The first morning I was here, I made the tragic mistake of leaving my dogs in my bedroom while I showered. Since I do this every day at home, I didn’t think much of it. Big difference to the Teak dog. At home, the bathroom and bedroom are all one big room, here there is a hallway separating the two. Which apparently means a free for all for Teak. While I was happily scrubbing away, she climbed onto the bed, up onto the back of a chair, somehow managed to work her way around my purse and pulled a soft sided cooler off the ledge. She then worked the zipper open and proceeded to pull out a bag of dog treats and shred the plastic and eat all the cookies. Yay Teak! What a creative girl. How do I know it was her? Because when I came back in the room, she was the one still licking the package remnants. Also, she was pretty cracked out the rest of the day - like a kid on a candy binge.

Her next trick has been to paw at the cupboard in the kitchen about 200 times a day. She has figured out how to get her face in there and push the door open. Fine, we just kept telling her to leave it alone. The other night, in the maybe 34 seconds between when my dad went to the kitchen to get ice cream, and when I went in to get water, the little animal had opened the door and had the entire front half of her body in Piper’s food and was gorging herself. Luckily, the kitchen is like two steps from the living room, and I chased her out of there before she got too much. Someday, I’d really love for her to look sorry instead of triumphant when she pulls these stunts. I can only hope that my mom’s dogs are not taking notes on how to be bad little pugs. Our solution? Duct tape on the cupboard door so she can’t get it open - now she’s just pissed off about it and we keep hearing these angry little paw swipes. Ha! Figure that one out, brat.

Other than the bad bad little black dog, everyone else has been pretty good. Karma gorged and made herself sick on grass and bird seed from under the bird feeder, so that was a fun explosion, and Dyson got left outside unattended for maybe 20 minutes and ripped up a portion of the deck trying to get to the bunnies underneath. Just a small piece of the board, not even a hole there, but you have to admire the effort. He got in trouble for digging under the deck the day before, so I can see in his mind how he wasn’t digging anymore, right? Removing deck boards is simply getting them out of his way. He’s become a bit obsessed with all the small critters around here. Jester has actually been very good, and has spent lots of time laying in the sun when it’s out.

Traveling with dogs is always an adventure, heck, daily life with Teak is a trip. I just never know what she’ll do next. I think I’m losing the war.

Posted on May 29th, 2008 by michelle
Filed under: My dogs, Random run ins | No Comments »

So we went to Build a Bear in Vegas this weekend. A good friend of ours gave us a gift card for puppysitting her dog - Hi Bella!. Josh made a cute floppy bunny for our baby, and I, of course, couldn’t resist making this black lab. It was the little assistance dog jacket that got me. How awesome is that? I just love it, his name is Trusty. Of course, cause he’s a lab. Duh.

Posted on May 14th, 2008 by michelle
Filed under: Non dog cuteness, Random run ins | No Comments »