So I Rescued a Foo-Foo, Got a Problem With It?

So from previous posts I guess it is really easy to decipher that my poor cattle dog was just not cut out for city livin' and I returned him safely home to his large back yard and the ponies and coyotes to play with. Needless to say, he is so much happier there, and he left me all alone here in he great city of Cincy.

I was pretty sure life without a dog would be just peachy for a while, but needless to say a helpless litte wanna be "bundle of joy" made its way into my life. You know the story, a friend of a friend of a friend and so on and so forth, this poor little man was all alone and in need of loving new mommy.

As my girlfriend and I pulled into the driveway to pick up this little tyke I immediately thought "I just made a really big mistake!" This little white weiner like looking dog was a hideous sight. I had looked them up on the net you know...exactly what a Bichon Frise should look like, and behave, and enjoy....he was everything but! His poor haircoat was shaved right on down to his skin. His face, hardly the puffball I had imagined from the breed website, and oh dear the nuts were still present and functional.



Nope, no cute, fuzzy, perfect gentleman for me...that for sure. I got the ALL MAN see my nuts, hey lets got here, oops let mark that real quick, whatcha doin huh huh whatcha doin kinda dog, with extreme ADD fo' sure!! I was in for it, big time!! It all began with potty training. I had read that potty training was a bit more difficult for little foo foo dogs like mine, but this one was pretty much potty trained just not "DONT MARK UP MY FURNITURE CAUSE IT IS NOT YOURS" trained. I have never net a dog so willing to take your face off upon disciplining, but this little tyke was all about it! Many a times he spent hangning by his collar in mid air until he cooled his jets. Obviously, the nuts were the first to go! That was a major attitude adjustment, especially since he didn't handle the anesthesia very well...talk about being a big baby.

The funky haircoat, well I guess we just gotta wait for that to grow out. He immediately named himself though. The Luckdragon from the Neverending Story lended its name to us as out little dragon child who could spit fire -- Falcor -- the name stuck.

I certainly thought my little man was going to be a bad idea, however, when I am gone he is a perfect gentleman and when I am here is becoming much more saintly and finally starting to settle in. He still has not yet figures out how to drink water, but hell, if thats all I have to clean up after him...we are all good!

Easter for pansies....

So being far far away in a location miles and miles away from a family relative of any sort, I found my peace this easter holiday. It was really odd spending my first real holiday away from my family (we are a pretty close nit bunch...), but I still was able to enjoy the typical Easter activities.

I owe it all to the boy of course, otherwise I would be sittin her on my arse-just me and the foo-foo dog (to be explained in another blog soon:), doing a whole lot of nothing! Except maybe venturing out to the gym because low and behold it was the ONLY thing open today!

This morning I woke up slightly earlier than typical for a Sunday morning and took the foo-foo for a long walk knowing he would be stuck at home for most of the day. Then the boy took me out for breakfast and we headed over to grandma's house. There is something to be said for grandma's -- they are just AMAZING people! Upon arrival we did the typical stuff, talked, gossiped, did laundry, went to the gym...isn't this what everyone does when they arrive for a holiday, hehe...

Upon return from a kick ass 5K run and the replacement of soakin' wet duds for dry warm ones (because by god the weather still ain't thinkin' spring yet!) we set the table and enjoyed a small family dinner. It was quaint, cooked to perfection, and elaborate with jelly beans on the table and homemade cheesecake to soothe any previous distaste. Completed with Grandma doing dishes, cooking all the food, and not allowing me to do a SINGLE gosh darn thing...I felt so useless!! I am not sure how it works in all your families but I'll be damned if I don't have to help remove plates, food, and dishes from the table. I kinda look forward to it...it means dessert is coming and it is ALWAYS the BEST PART! Again, grandma's are like little worker bees that want to keep everyone fed, warm, and happy. Can I skip the mommy part and go right to grandma part? No wonder my parents want kids.....hmmm....not so sure about that one.

After dinner...even better. Everyone retreated. The boy to the Basketball games (they are the lifeforce sucking everyone's brain right now!) I to a nap .. AND OH IT WAS SO GOOD!, and all the others dissipated into the cold. No goodbyes, see you laters, or hugs. (I'm a hugger, what happened to hugs?) But, I guess I was napping, who was I to notice if people left or not.

Overall however, being at a table surrounded by A Family, who could talk and communicate much like a family should made this Easter holiday feel about like an Easter should. A time to remember family and even though my family was not present, it definitely gave me lots of time to remember feel appreciateive that they are my family. Not to mention the extreme appreciation for the boy who allowed me to join his family fo the holiday. I am awfully lucky to have him around.

PS: The neighbor made me an easter cake, and their little boy Jack put the sprinkles on all by himself...I have the coolest neighbors ever! I am so not letting them move! Who else is gonna sneak crawl into my apartment and keep me company?

Hello My Name Is ..., and I am a habitual PACKRAT!

I have heard the horror stories and other women complain, joke, and laugh about the subject of male packrats, but I was sure I would never be one of them. I am sure you all have your own stories to add as well...You know, that husband that refuses to part with his favorite sweatpants with the GIGANTIC hole in the crotch because "baby, they are my favorites" or their favorite pair of undies that are so hole ridden and worn that they hardly serve their purpose anymore, oh, and lets not forget about all those pairs of socks with holes in the soles! Please tell me the functionality of any of these items, other than the fact that 5, 10, or 30 years ago that they were new and you LOVED them dearly and wore the stuffins' out of em'

I was pretty sure that I was safe from this kind of torture, until recent events allowed me to add to my own collection of stories involving that special man and the items he refuses to part with. Packrat hell has entered my life in the form of ratty old stained cut up t-shirts and many other unspeakables! I am sure somewhere up in heaven the cotton fairy is in tears over the damaging reputation she is getting by these items that continue to be paraded around in public. You know way up there that she sees everything...even if it is concealed under another shirt or hidden within a shoe...she sees EVERYTHING!

I have yet to figure out why men (and women sometimes...I guess in rare cases) grasp onto these items and feel so connected to them that a proper burial within a garbage bag or burning bin are so traumatic. I guess because I am OCD and prefer order that I will never continuously waste laundry money or closet space on a shirt or any other wearable that has a hole in it. What function can that item ever really have after the cotton has given way and seams begin to unravel? Is it really so special just because it has your name on it, you won your first game in it, or it snagged you your first date, kiss, or grandslam.... FYI: Take a picture, it lasts LONGER, not to mention that the cotton fairy wants her material back!

For now I will wait patiently as you continue to waste laundry money, closet space, and still wear these absolute mockeries of real clothing, but you just wait-women are really sneaky creatures and when your not looking...we will secretly bury them for you and will probably not even hint that we did:) In all respect we are doing you a favor, you should be thanking us for our assistance in curing your packratisms.