Open letter to the Obamas

Dear Obama Family,
I understand that you are looking for a puppy. It is all over the news, of course. I have two puppies and I would like to explain why they would be perfect for your family and this great country. First, the puppies are named Randi and Earl. They are brother and sister and must go together. Families need to stick together-sense of family is one of the values of this great country. I don't know what kind of dogs they are. They have come from the canine melting pot, just like many Americains. NPR has been talking a lot about "moxi" the ability to survive in hard times. Randi and Earl have moxi. I don't know how long they survived on their own before they showed up at my house, but based on their look it was quite a while. Randi and Earl persevered, like the Pilgrims, like the Pioneers they set out for unknown lands not knowing what was waiting for them, but they made it work. Additionally, as America was founded by hard-workers, Randi and Earl are very hard workers. They certainly believe in staying busy and are constantly working and finding different projects. Currently, they are working on a moat around my pool.

You can see how Randi and Earl espouse the values of America, but they are also a good choice for your family. They are potty trained. As a taxpayer and in this time of economic uncertainty, I don't think it is appropriate to be spending money on new carpet or the Little Green Machine to clean up after puppy accidents. On NPR (again) there was a man who said that your choice in puppy should be active and able to take a lot of movement and activity. This is Randi and Earl. They are very active and most happy when there is lots of movement and things to do. But, they can also entertain themselves if they need to. They like to wrestle and play. They like to go places and love to ride in the car. (Just make sure you put on the child lock for the windows. Randi is very smart.) I've taught them some French, so they are multilingual. (I understand this makes them unlike most Americains, but we are looking for change.) They know phrases like "oh mon dieu!" and "un, deux, trois aller!" Also, there are two of them and since you have two girls you will not want them to have to fight over the puppy and this way they can each have one. But most importantly they are dang cute. I think this is probably most important for publicity purposes. Imagine the Time magazine cover with their cute faces on the front and the words "America's dogs." They have choke chains and a tandem leash. Earl does a great impression of a dying dinosaur. How many dogs can do that?

I am confident that you will see how perfect Randi and Earl will fit your family and represent this great country. Just let me know when you will be coming to pick them up. I'll get new collars for them.

Three Quarters

Yesterday, I may have made one of the stupidest decisions of my life. It started when I decided that I would take Randi and Earl on their first walk in the desert in 8 months. All started normally, when I pulled out the leash, Randi and Earl nearly knocked me over. I risked breaking all of my nails trying to get them on the leash and they tumbled out the door. The puppies have a tandem leash. This works well because if one tries to go one way the other one usually is doing the opposite and it results in less marginally less yanking. The whole process went awry when I opened the gate and Clark ran into the front yard.
When Clark gets out of the yard, it is a fiasco. Usually he won't come back and so I have to go and get food and then chase him and 20 minutes later, I grab him. So when he got out, I said a few choice words. However as soon as I opened the door to the truck Clark jumped in. I thought great! I'll grab him. Only Clark wasn't having it and every time I opened the door, he ran to a different area of the truck. So I did the only logical thing: I got his harness and leashed and decided to take Randi, Earl and Clark on a walk.

(Sarah, freed of the constraints of all of the lesser, undisciplined and annoying members of the pack enjoyed quiet time. She ate peacefully. She made her perimeter check without anyone in front of her, behind her, next to her, punking her, looking at her or otherwise compromising the integrity of the permimeter check. She sun bathed wherever she wanted without anyone near her and she reminisced about the times when this was her normal life. Then we came home.)

Randi and Earl love the car and they sit very well in the back seat (as long as the child locks are on the windows.) Clark-not so much. He's nervous nelly and has to stand the whole time. Before we left, I had called my sister to let her know I was embarking on a possible life damaging endeaver and if she didn't hear back from me it was because I had been dismembered in the desert walking 3/4 of the pack. Once we got out of the car and on our way the walk was remarkably peaceful and pleasant. I think I may rent them out as a new upper body workout since I'm sore from pulling back. We did not see a rabbit or any other animal, so I think this may be one reason we survived.

Then, the pack decided to be assholes when Josh brought his puppy over to play. Well, everyone but Sarah. She was just pissed. First, Josh had promised he would take her. Second he didn't. Third she probably thought that his puppy might be staying. The other three quarters were big jerks and mean.

CT Scans of Earl's brain

Not that I have the money or means, but I'm sure if we could look inside Earl's head to see what is going on after being shown these two images, this would be the findings:
"Danger! Danger! Immediate death and/or dismemberment!"
"Alert! Alert! Immediate death and/or dismemberment! We must attack." Which is how Earl got everyone up this morning to run outside and fight the snow, less it attack while we were all sleeping. The Pack bounded out of the house and growled and attacked the snow until it retreated and admitted defeat faced with the threat of the Pack. Once again, our home is safe.

Snow Dogs

Some pictures of the pack... during and after the snow.

Wall II

Earl's no dummy. He knows that it's just when you think it's safe that something jumps out at you and he's taking no chances.



Under the Christmas tree...

EARL ROAMS FREELY IN THE HALLWAY!!

Finally, the nightmare is over.

Nap Time!

The hours between 10am-2pm are specifically dedicated to nap time. Want to come in the yard during that time. No problem. Want to rob the house? Randi and Earl will help by showing you where I keep the good silver. (Little do they know that I just told them where I keep the good silver. Like I'd trust those two with any national secrets.) They are completely useless. However when I come home and need a nap it takes nearly an act of congress to make it happen.

First, I arrive home. "Hi, pack of dogs," I say. Then I push my way through the gate and push my way through the bouncing mass of legs. "What did you do today? No, get down. Did you play? No, get down. Did you play you run around while Sarah barks game? No, get down." At some point I usually yell, "leave her alone! She doesn't like you!" Once I finally get into the house I usually make my way back to the bedroom and lay down. No one is ever satisfied with this and they always have to jump on me or try to lick me or try to lay on me. It's not very peaceful.

The other problem is that Sarah doesn't eat unless I'm home. I usually get home about the same time as all the other kids so there are LOTS of thing to bark out. Which means that I usually get home. Lay down on my bed. Try to go to sleep with fidgeting dogs around me. Sarah sits outside and barks at nothing. Earl whines in the hallway. Clark tries to get all my attention and Randi tries not to be unadopted. Nobody ever really gets a nap and I usually end up more stressed than not.

It's even worse if I lay on my "nap" bed because on there, there's not enough room for everyone to take a nap and I have to do a dance to see who is going to sleep the closest to me.

Reasons for Sarah to be Bitchy

1. Randi
2. Earl
3. Randi and Earl
4. There are no men at my house.
5. The quilt for "her" bed turned out too small.
6. She doesn't get cheese and tortillas like the Snickerdoodle.
7. Nobody appreciates the everyone runs around while she barks game.
8. She once lived with creepy Jose.

Earl develops an irrational fear of the hallway

Lighting the pilot light in the wall heater is always a challenge. It usually takes me 2-3 days because I can't ever remember where exactly the pilot part of the wall heater is and I end up putting fire in place that are not going to help me light the pilot light.

And so, this is what happened last week, when on a cold day I tried to light the wall heater. I ended up laying on the ground for about 30 minutes moving fire around trying to somehow light the pilot light. It didn't work. What it did do is produce some kind of hysterical fear in Earl who now has to pull up all of his inner warrior strength to even look down the hallway.

I didn't notice at first that Early was terrified of the hall. But the next morning when I got up and he still hadn't left the bathroom I got a clue. I ended up grabbing him the collar and dragging him down the hallway. He might have stayed in there for the rest of his life. He stayed in the living room for 3 days, crying pathetically when the rest of us were in the back rooms. Then, Earl made a break for it last week and scrambled down the hallway. Now, it takes him several minutes of courage gathering, some whining, some cajoling on my part and he will make a bolt for the backroom.

I can't figure out what it was that terrified him. The rest of us walk by the wall heater at least twenty times a day without any mishaps. He's gone by it a bazillion times, but for whatever reason, he has decided that it is the most horrific thing in the world and should only be braved once or twice a week. I thought he'd forget about it and return to normal, but he has shown no sign that he's willing to let his guard down and let the wall heater get the best of him. Poor Earl.

One Year Anniversary Celebration

Forget the cake, gifts of paper or anything else. Here at the Saratoga Animal Shelter we're celebrating the one year anniversary of Randi and Earl with 24 Hours of Mischief. I felt it was appropriate to have a mischief theme as that is what Randi and Earl do best.

It's hard to believe that it's only been one year since Randi and Earl showed up at my gate. Since that time they've committed uncountable acts of mischief, resulting in the loss of socks, underware, sports bras, Clark's toys, sandpaper, three or four dog beds and most of Sarah's patience. And so for the 24 Hours of Mischief they've been quite reserved. Maybe they're maturing. Maybe they're out of the "terrible two's"; I'm not really sure, but they are quite calm.

I on the other hand, have managed my own mischief. Accidentally, I drained half of the pool yesterday. I didn't want to drain the pool, if I had, why would I have just put chemicals in it? So I was surprised when I saw that half of my pool water was in the backyard and not in the pool. I created more mischief when I tried to fill the pool back up and the hose fell out and for who knows how long, it watered my backyard. Brilliant.

However, the 24 Hours of Mischief are not over.

An F+ in Survival Training, but an A+ in Landscaping

Clark and Sarah spent about five weeks in survival training the first time I went to Utah. They're troopers. Randi and Earl barely passed the pre-survival test in November when they had two nights alone, when I went to the Grand Canyon. They failed miserably when I went to North Carolina and tried to kill each other by getting tangled up in leashes. Last week, due in part to the electrified fence they scathed by. Day One of the Utah trip, I imagine they were mostly confused about why I wasn't home. Day Two, while I was enjoying Bryce Canyon they probably chased each other around until they fell over tired or they annoyed Sarah until she bit them both and took out patches of hair. But I think it was probably Day Three, as I was hiking Peekaboo Canyon, that they began to think about rearranging the landscaping in the backyard. I'm sure that they were thinking that I would be impressed. Maybe they were even thinking that I would reward them with chicken. I really couldn't have understood the scope of their imagination, since I really only have a dirt and dead tree garden. Really, what could they do? But I think that it was probably on Day Four, as I was driving to Capitol Reef that they began to implement their relandscaping project. I can't imagine how long it would have taken the two of them to rip out a branch of the tree and its root, but they did.
Upon my return on Day Six, I was initially very happy to see all four dogs alive and in the backyard (following a phone call from the neighbors in which they expressed their concern for Sarah, not to mention the fact that the dogs were barking a lot at night. Needless to say, I expected the worst.) However, I was impressed that during my absence Randi and Earl had completed a landscaping project, by removing branches and roots.
These talents don't compare to the two of them helping me discover that in fact there is some kind of dead something underneath my house. Life. It doesn't get better than this.

Earl helps me hunt for mice

As it happens, I am not a great house owner. There are many things at my house that are not up to par and need to be fixed. This is because I don’t have a husband. Or at least I think so. If I had a husband he would be able to fix all of these problems for me while I worked on dinner and cleaned toilets. I know this is a rather classic view of male/female roles in the house, but the fact is, I don’t want to deal with some stuff, most noteably: mice. But because I have no husband, I have had to make do and so I have a system for dealing with mice. Upon first seeing the mouse droppings, I ignore them. Then, I talk to the mice and tell the mice that if they don’t bother me I won’t bother them. Inevitably, they don’t agree to this and continue to plague me. Then I call my dad with the mice news hoping that just this one time he will say "Don't worry, I'll take care of it." (He never does. He just says, "It's a homeowner's job.") In the end I have to set the traps and then get out the special BBQ pinchers that I use exclusively for picking up mouse traps filled with mice. There is always a lot of screaming on my part.

So as it happens, I have a mouse problem and a dryer vent that needs repair. This has produced the most spectacular event that Earl has participated in. Twice when I have gone to start the dryer a mouse has run out of the dryer vent. Thus, Earl is convinced that anytime I turn on the dryer a mouse will run out. What this means is that Earl is ready to go when I turn the dryer on. Whenever I go near the dryer, Earl follows me and looks anxiously at the dryer, waiting for the mouse. If I forget to call him he has come running around the corner at the sound of the door opening. Earl has become my go-to guy for mouse hunting.

Last week, after having unsuccessfully negotiated with the mice to leave me alone, I heard one rumbling around in the cabinet. I called Earl and he and I investigated in the kitchen. The investigation looked like this: Me in the middle of the kitchen with the broom poking at cabinets and screaming, "Go away mouse!" and Earl standing in the kitchen looking up at me like he had no idea what his part in this spectacle was. We didn't find any mice that day, but later when I caught five mice in the middle of the night, he was the only one who got up at 1:30 AM and followed me into the kitchen to provide moral support while I screamed and used the special mouse getting BBQ pinchers to pick up mouse traps and throw them into the trash. If only he would learn how to get rid of the mice himself.

How many dogs do you have?

I hate when people ask me that question. I don't hate the question; I just hate giving the answer. Before I could just say, "two." A very reasonable number for a single person living alone. Then, there was a transition period where I could say, "Well, I have two and then I have these two puppies, I'm trying to get adopted." Then I just sounded like a concerned animal lover looking out for abandoned dogs. But now? Now I have to admit, (and I admit reluctantly) "I have four dogs." And then the person gets The Look that tells me that I'm the girl with four dogs. One dog, cool. Two dogs, animal lover. Four dogs and people look at me like I have serious issues. Four dogs? Sometimes I just have to say it to myself for me to believe it, "Do I really have four dogs?" I can't even believe it and neither can people when I tell them. Then I feel obliged to explain about how these two puppies showed up at my house one day and they were so skinny and pathetic, but happy go lucky that I let them in and then I tried to get them adopted and Randi did get adopted, but then got unadopted the next day and then the person has stopped listening and is just going back what could possibly be wrong with me that I have four dogs. I don't even know what's wrong with me that I have four dogs, except they were really skinny and pathetic and I had to let them in the yard. I'm like the old spinster lady with a bunch of cats, only it's dogs and I'm not old yet.

The Smartest Dogs Ever

Everyone thinks that they have the smartest domestic animals on the planet, but this week, Randi and Earl have proven that they really are the smartest animals, if not on the planet, at least on our street. Yesterday during my absence, Randi and Earl turned on the water in the backyard. Now, some may remember the last time Randi and Earl managed to "turn" the water on in the backyard, the day that they chewed the hose up to the swamp cooler, which produced a water park like attraction with water spraying all over the place. That day was quite extraordinary, especially with the plants that had been over turned and the mud pit that ensued. However, yesterday, Randi and Earl turned the water on, by literally turning the water on. Somehow, (I imagine that this adventure must have involved some sort of wrestling match), they managed to turn the knob on the faucet. Not normally a problem because there would be a hose, but being that Randi and Earl had previously chewed off the hose, this resulted in a mild river and small canine made lake in my back yard. (Note, Sarah's involvement in this shenanigan is unknown. She may have very well masterminded the whole event and explained how to turn the facet.) So you can imagine that I immediately swelled with immense pride at my puppies who have learned to turn on water. Particularly, I'm thinking that this will be much easier when I'm not home, as I won't have to worry about whether or not they have water. In case of doubt of their intelligence, this morning Earl proved that really he is quite the genius. (Note also: my sister says that Earl is a pot smoker due to his vacant and stoned look most of the time. After her observation, I did watch Early pretty closely and he does disappear for bits of time and then come back with a goofy look on his face, but I don't think he's smoking pot. Where would he get the money?) This morning Earl turned on the TV. No really. TV on. You might think, what was Early watching? Weeds? Animal Planet? No, he turned on the TV to listen to music. So all of us were woken up this morning to XM Radio. Freaking Randi and Earl. They're geniuses.