Lay off the Flirting, Candy Pants!

People always say that when it’s your own child, it’s different.  Teach, babysit, nurse, and doctor all you want, but when you have your own children it will all change.  Caring for other people’s children just isn’t the same.  While I don’t know about human children, I am pretty sure this is true about pets.

Candy is a little flirt.  She has two “boyfriends” around the neighborhood, plus she’s flirty with the groomer’s dog.  Candy, by the way, is my little Shih Tzu, in case you forgot.  Aside from getting friendly with the boys, she loves meeting other dogs and most definitely people.

Yesterday we went for our evening walk and ran into an adorable little brown-and-white Shih Tzu named Beau.  Candy and Beau hit it off immediately.  The flirting was ridiculous.  This was the acquisition of boyfriend number three.  We eventually continued on but it wasn’t long before Candy noticed Fozzy up ahead.  Fozzy is Candy’s first boyfriend.  When Candy sees Fozzy she’s stops dead in her tracks and wags her tail, waiting for her Romeo.  This time Fozzy and his mom were with another dog-and-human pair so I had to coax Candy forward (a surprisingly difficult feat when she is in Fozzy-mode).  Candy and Fozzy met and sparks flew.  Don’t worry, it’s adorable and not dirty.  Apparently Fozzy is as much of a Romeo as Candy is a flirt.

Now, I couldn’t tell you exactly what happened next because I was too busy flipping out.  Either the other dog’s human loosened her grip to let him sniff Candy, or she lost control of the leash because he pulled too hard.  Which ever way it happened, this other dog who couldn’t have been bigger than a Corgi ended up with his mouth around Candy’s neck.  And I ended up saying “Oh my G-d” over and over again.

How embarrassing.  Here I was, trained to handle these situations by two organizations and having handled similar situations in the past, and all I could say was “Oh my G-d.”  Something about Candy being in that situation sapped my brain of any rationality.  She’s my baby.

As soon as he let go I grabbed Candy gave her a once over.  She seemed to be OK and just wanted to go back to her little boyfriend.  Really, Candy?  I had to carry her part of the way home so she wouldn’t keep looking back.  When I got her back in the apartment she was flying off the walls.  You wouldn’t know that she was just attacked by another dog.  You also wouldn’t know that she had a bite wound on her shoulder.  I took a closer look at her and there it was, a little bloody patch on her fur.

The good news is that Candy is just fine.  I took her to the emergency vet where they clipped the area and cleaned the wound.  No stitches, no fancy anything.  She is on antibiotics as a precaution.  It is already healing beautifully and unless you looked for her little bald patch, you wouldn’t know anything happened to her.  She’s my little nut.

The bad news is that I don’t know the contact information for either human, Fozzy’s or the other dog’s.  I guess I’ll be calling rental management for that.

And with that I should be going.  The Princess wants me to go to bed.

Puppy Love and Soup

As you probably figured out, or if you saw on Facebook you already know, I dropped out of my own challenge.  Life got in the way.  I feel defeated which is never a good feeling on top of feeling guilty for not finishing for Pam.  But, I tried.  I blogged more than I’ve blogged in a long, long time.  At least that’s something.

It was a high close to eighty degrees today and yet I made vegan matzo ball soup for dinner.  It seemed the right thing to do after feeling like I was hit by a ton of bricks.  I have some sort of cold/allergy thing going on which hit its peak last night making my throat sandpaper and acid.  I’ve also had a stomach issue for the past week which was only made worse by my doctor’s suggested “remedy” of sorts.  And then that on and off migraine I had for a week?  The weather thought it would invite it back for a day.

Yesterday was not the day for all of that considering the stress level at work.  I’m not looking forward to Monday.  But today I feel much better.  I can swallow without wincing, my stomach isn’t bubbling like a witch’s cauldron, and the rubber band around my head must’ve snapped during the night.

But I still can’t eat as I usually do, which is a vegan diet naturally high in fiber and healthy good stuff.  So today I didn’t eat a whole lot and that included vegan matzo ball soup.

It was the first time I tried making vegan matzo balls.  I used egg replacer instead of eggs with the matzo ball mix.  I’m not sure what happened, but the balls were small and despite boiling them for long than the recipe called for, they were doughy inside.  All is not lost though, for I have found many a from-scratch-vegan-matzo-ball recipe online.  I will have a delicious vegan matzo ball someday.  In the meantime, the soup was good on my throat, in my stomach, and for my soul.

I also attribute my betterness to Candy.  Good old-fashioned puppy love.  As in, love from a puppy (or 3-year-old Shih Tzu).  She’s been cuddly and wonderful all day.  I’m sure she thinks I’m dull and stupid for sitting around reading, sleeping, and not feeding her training treats, but she seems to know what she’s supposed to do.  Dogs are fabulous like that.  Bill and Bailey are great like that, too.  If I was at the house, Bailey would probably be under the same blanket as me, snoozing and warming my lap, inducing me into a nap as well.  How can you not love dogs?

It’s not even 7pm yet and I could go to bed right now.  I’ll try to stay up for a while so I don’t wake up too early.  Tomorrow, orange juice for breakfast! Mmm. Continue reading

N is for Nine

Today Bill and Bailey turned the great big NINE.  They are nine years old now which means we have been under their command for seven years.  Despite all they’ve done to make my family crazy, angry, sad, neurotic, depressed, and so forth, we love them unconditionally and could not imagine life without them.  I think I speak for my whole family when I say that we are grateful they made it to the big NINE and wish them many more crabby, cranky, crotchety, and hilariously loveable years.  And Candy wishes they’d be a little less antisocial which usually does not happen in old age.

This is the first year I didn’t spend the weenie birthday at the house with the weenies.  I feel guilty.  Hopefully the amazing gift I bought for them will make up for it.  For now, I am snorgling with a Floof who did stuff in our little training session today that the weenies will never ever learn, ha!

Here’s to Bill and Bailey, the monsters who made me a doxie person!

M is for Migraine

I have been battling an on-and-off migraine for the past few days.  I would love nothing more than to curl up with some ginger ale, a warm blanket, and Candy and sit back to watch Elementary.  What I’ll probably do is zonk out in bed because I just took something for the pain for the first time in three days.  I’ve been doing pretty well except that I could barely keep my eyes open at work this morning.

I really want to watch Elementary.  I hate having to wait until Friday evenings to watch the recorded episode off of my DVR because I’d been waiting all week to find out what happens next.  Mostly I like watching Sherlock.  I love his quirky oddities and brilliance. But it’s difficult for me to stay up to the wee hour of 10pm when it is finally over (pathetic, I know) so I usually end up waiting.

The nasty weather isn’t helping.  More rain in the Midwest.

And now…contemplating why Watson always has to wear those ugly Miniskirts.

L is for Lentils

I love lentils.  I’ve told people time and time again that lentils are nearly the perfect food and I love them.  Lentils are packed with protein, fiber, and iron.  You can make soups, salads, and sides with them.  They are a vegan’s dream come true.

Recently I learned how to sprout them.

Apparently you can get even more nutritional value from a lentil if it is sprouted.  For once in my life, instead of being lazy and saying I’d eventually try it, I ate tons of pasta to empty a jar and bought cheese cloth so I could sprout some lentils.  All it takes is soaking your lentils overnight, draining them, putting them in a jar covered in cheesecloth, and rinsing them twice a day.  A windowsill for sunlight helps.

After a week of watching the magic of nature and growth, I had sprouts.  They looked just like bean sprouts with lentils hanging off the ends.  And they taste fantastic, lentily with a touch of sproutiness.  You can eat them raw or cook with them.  The sprouts are about as versatile as the lentil itself.

Sprouting lentils would be a great learning project for elementary aged kids.  And if you’re like me and little parts of nature like plant growth never cease to amaze you, it would be a great project for you, too.

I love lentils.

Wow, I Lost

It is Tuesday evening and I am three blog posts behind and Candy is giving me big googly eyes because I should be spoiling her instead of writing here.

On Sunday we went out for dinner.  What should have been a quick meal out turned into a long night of waiting.  My dad and I are not know to be the most patient people.  It runs in the family.  Thus for Sunday, I was for Impatient.  But, when you wait 45 to 90 minutes for your food to come out, is being unhappy about the service really out of line?  The excuse we were given was that everyone was ordering the special and the meat had to cook the right amount of time in order to not be served raw.  The last time I saw my parents cook beef on the grill, it only took about 25 minutes.  So, I did not have time to do much when I got home, let alone fulfill a blogging duty.  Bah Humbug.

On Monday I found myself catching up on what I couldn’t do on Sunday.  My brain was J for Jumping around from place to place, this blog not being one of them.  Candy’s jumping problem, yes.  She’s getting better, but if you’re a little kiddo and she wants to play with you, you might get a nice pouncing.

And today, Tuesday, even though I was brainstorming what to write whenever I had free time, I find myself trying to write this as quickly as possible because I should be washing up, getting ready for bed, and getting Candy outside for the last time.  K?  Kangaroos.  I planned to write about Kangaroos.  Either this challenge is a killer, I am ADD, or I have more on my plate than I thought!

Tomorrow, L.  L is for…

H is for Happy

If I were in junior high school I would get penalized on my English assignments for using such a lack-luster, overused adjective.  Why not use elated, cheerful, overjoyed?  But as the words become more complex, the meanings veer in different directions and what exactly do they mean?  Happy–it’s a core, simply word.  It’s happy.

It is also something that seems to be fading away.  How often are you able to get somebody to say he or she is happy?  What does it even mean to be truly happy?  Our expectations for being happy are so extraordinary these days that happy seems always just out of reach.  When somebody asks me how I am doing, more often than not I answer “I could be better, but I could be worse,” which is true, but is that happy?  Are you happy if you have been better?

I think happy is more simple than we’ve made it out to be.  Yes, you can be happy if you’ve been better because even little things can bring about little bits of happiness.  So, while I question our society’s definition of happy, I have compiled a list of some of the things that make me happy:

*Dogs, especially those I belong too


*A good cup of coffee

*Giving gifts

*The smell of old books

*A cozy blanket


*A nice long walk

G is for Grateful

I almost left you without a Friday blog post because I am just that tired.  It’s just past 9pm CST but I could fall unconscious any minute if I just close my eyes and lay my head on a pillow.

But the purpose of a challenge is to push onward despite the obstacles, correct? So I am peeling my eyes as wide as I can to tell you that I am grateful.

I am grateful that it is the weekend.

This hasn’t been the most terrible weekend ever, but it has been long and exhausting nonetheless.  I need to go grocery shopping.  I have a baby shower to go to tomorrow.  I have an appointment early tomorrow morning.  I have plans with my parents on Sunday in the afternoon.  And, most importantly, I will sleep.

I am grateful that weekends exist so that we have two days before the weekly grind begins again and makes my caffeine addiction thrive.  I’m inching toward two cups a day now.

I am grateful that weekends exist so that we have two days before I’m not sure when I will get anything done.

And now, for the weekend.

F is for Fat

F is for Fat which Obie is no longer.

I have been following the story of Obie, the overweight dachshund, for quite some time.  He went from seventy-seven pounds down to thirty-seven pounds in less than one year thanks to the rehabilitation efforts of his adoptive mother, a veterinary technician.  You can read more about him here:  

Obie’s story is heartwarming and every photo and video of him has made me smile and want to hug him like a teddy bear.  You could call me pathetic, or his “mommy” a great story-teller.

One aspect of Obie’s story that I can’t get over is how, as a dachshund, his joints and back seemed to withstand the weight without much damage done.  A little extra weight added and Bill’s back and joints cause him to yelp and cry.  A little extra weight on Bill is a pound or two.  For Obie, we’re talking an extra forty-some pounds.

Needless to say, it doesn’t take much for a dog’s story to touch me and get me bubbling over in oohs and ahs, but Obie is special.  I want to send Obie a present for doing so well and sticking through it (even though people all over the country have already sent him countless gifts).  What story will I follow when Obie’s adventure is over?  Will his adventure ever be over?

E is for Elton John

I always flip through a selection of four different radio stations in the car.  Why listen to commercials when you can just find more music?  Usually.  While flipping through the stations I stopped on an Elton John song.  I don’t know the name or the lyrics as it wasn’t one of his biggest hits, but all I could think was, “E IS FOR ELTON!”  Yes, this challenge is quite challenging.  But lucky for you, it is keeping me from writing about dogs every day.

Years ago when I was still in elementary school I remember my cousin found out that Elton John is gay.  I can’t remember if I told him or somebody else did, but he denied it wholeheartedly.  That was back in the day when a kid our age probably didn’t know what gay really meant in all of its social complexities.  It was back when all an innocent kid knew was to think “eww,” because not only was girl-boy stuff gross, but boy-boy was even grosser.  And to think that such an awesome musician was gay?  Naw.  Couldn’t be.  But to think on it now, who is Elton John without homosexuality as part of his identity?  Whether that is sad or something to look up to, it has become an undeniable, inseparable part of him.

I also always think of the scene in 27 Dresses where Katherine Heigl and James Marsden are in the bar signing “Benny and the Jets”.  “She’s got electric boobs!”  You have to admit it does sound like boobs if you don’t listen really carefully.  I can’t say I knew exactly what the lyrics were to that song before that movie came out, either.  But as cute as it was, I have seen it far too many times for anybody’s good.

I could go on, but Candy is passed out on the couch reminding me that we should both be passed out in bed.  Good night!