Fat Guy on a Little Bed

I thought the bite sized bed would discourage Earl from poaching.  Obviously not.

Mellow

First, Clark and Sarah's adventures to the vet today went off without a hitch.  Sarah continues to lie about her age and everybody got their shots and Randi and Earl were still in the yard when we got back.  Everyone loved Sarah at the vet because she has lots of personality when it's not just me around.

Kelly, the massage therapist, came today and everyone was in the house and then everyone jumped.  She said, "Oh Earl, he's so lovey."  Which is true.  Early is quite lovey.  Later she said, "Earl, he seems pretty mellow." 

"Yeah," I replied, "He smokes a lot of pot."

Mute

I believe that the ducks have no voice box.  Voici la preuve:  This morning they spent a few moments making a strange neck craning movement which included opening and closing their beaks and all I heard was a weezing sound when there should have been quacking!  It sounded like they were hoarse.  They never make noise. 

Being a Domestic Goddess

Today I got my domestic Goddess cookbook and went to make my first dish as a domestic goddess, which involved melted butter.  I left it on the counter long enough to go into the sewing room to turn off the iron, during which time, Earl's finely honed butter senor went off and he knocked the melted butter onto the kitchen floor and kitchen rug, where it soaked in quite nicely.  Randi and Clark quickly came to Earl's aid in cleaning up said butter renversement and all three of them were happy campers when I walked back into the kitchen.  Unable to ascertain through any reliable method the amount of butter that was procured by Earl, I was forced to melt another 1/2 cup, which I then guarded closely until I used it to cook.

Earl must be the third son of Paula Deen.  What else could possibly explain his fascination with butter?

Tomorrow Clark and Sarah have to go and get shots.  Not gonna lie, I'm nervous about what kind of mischief the puppies will get in while we're out.  Maybe they won't even notice, but I can't imagine that.

Graduating

Earl graduated from butter to cream cheese today.  I guess he's just trying to make sure I don't leave anything on the counter.  What a guy.

Merry Christmas

The butter is calling "Earl, Earl, Earlie"

Earl only looks like he's relaxing, but really, he's just scoping out things to eat off of the counter.

PDub and EDub explore their yard while Randi watches.

Clarified

Earl likes butter.  Yesterday I came in the kitchen and found a plate on the floor.  Just one in a series of Earl eating things off of the kitchen counter.  At first I thought Earl had eaten a candle.  But the candle was still there.  Then I went to get the butter I had set out and realized that Earl had eaten the half a stick of butter that was on the plate.  Today I found the butter wrapper on the floor.  Earl had eaten what was left of the butter after I made my bread.  I'm not sure what this might do to his insides, but then I remembered that this is the same dog that ate a half of a chocolate cake and was a trooper.  Maybe he'll just get high cholesterol.   

Aliments

Since birth Sarah has a chronic disease called fake limping.  It manifests itself every so often and suddenly Sarah starts limping.  This makes you think that there is something wrong; sticker in the paw, broken leg, rusty nails, so you walk over and check her out.  You rub her foot, check her leg and she does a little skip and stops limping.  Sometimes she'll start again right after, sometimes the next day and in this case, quite a few months.  I've been onto her game for several years now and so and I just tell her to stop fake limping and she does.  This week however, the fake limping was contagious and shortly after Sarah's bout with fake limping, Randi and Earl, independent of one another started fake limping.  Their fake limping was cured once they start their WWF evening wrestling extravaganza.

Aquisition

I got a new vacuum.  Pretty much the reason I chose it amongst the other similarly priced ones is because this one has an attachment that you can use to "groom" your animals.  I'm going to set up the video camera before the first time I try to "groom" one of the pack using the attachment.  I might start with Sarah.  She needs it.

In other big news, I got booed off the stage four times in Guitar Hero tonight and EDub flew completely across the yard.  I've got to get a net before he flies over to visit with Randi and Earl who will take it as lunch that is a little squiggley.

Naughty

Randi and Earl tore up one of their new pet beds.  I walked outside to the living room and found a sea of brown stuffing.

Assholes.

Personalitities

Ok, so first of all I no longer have a problem with sciatica.  I have arthritis in my spine, so now when I hurt I am going to complain about my arthritis.  "Oh my arthritis."  I think this might also help when I am pissed of at the world, such as today.  There was no real good reason for me to be pissed off at the world, but children could have been hurt.  Luckily they were taking a final and not talking to me because I was so dang grumpy.  I was like Sarah-pissed off at the world.  I don't know if Sarah has arthritis though.  And I am NOT paying for full body XRays to find out.

On Friday I watched the Secret Life of Bees.  I read the book.  I shoulda known I might cry, only I seem to forget what happens in books soon after I read them.  I would do horrible if I had to take an AR test on a book I read because I would fail miserably.  Last year for one of my book clubs we read The Great Gatsby.  I wrote a 10 page paper on the role of women in that book in college.  I was absolutely dumbfounded when the lady died.  Who saw that coming? In any case, despite reading about the bees, it was like a whole new experience and I cried.  A lot.  For about an hour and a half.  It was aweseome.

I haven't cried hysterically in quite a while.  This used to be a daily occurrence and Clark got quite good at comforting me while I cried hysterically.  But Friday he was outside when the flood started and the only one in the house was Earl.  Earl has many fine qualities.  He's quiet.  He enjoys watching Bridezillas, Tabitha's Salon Takeover and the Real Housewives with me.  He helps me find my shoes in the morning.  He can be cuddly, but he is definitely lacking in the comforting people who are crying hysterically category.  I tried for a few minutes by holding Earl on my lap (one of his problems is he doesn't really fit in your lap.)  He wasn't much help- in fact he seemed quite bewildered by my behavior.  As soon as I let Clark in and he saw my state his whole demeanor changed.  Normally he lets Randi and Earl push him around, but he took one look at me and said "Step aside, Earl.  I've got this one covered."  With a confidence he rarely shows, he climbed on my lap and we watched the rest of the movie.

Randi is not good at comforting because she is too hyper.  She likes to watch soccer.  So much so that I have to be careful putting the football on the TV because sometimes she looks like she wants to jump up and start playing football with the Premiership league.  Randi is going to be getting pool together for the World Cup.  I think she just likes looking at their legs.  Oh wait, maybe that's me.

Sarah likes to sit outside and bark at nothing until I open the door and yell "What the hell are you barking at?"  Then she looks at me, turns around and starts barking again.  I'm worried about her still because this morning she was sick.

And someone keeps peeing on the floor.  All I know for certain is it is not me.  I think it's Sarah.

Alerte a la Saratoga Animal Shelter

The vacuum's broke.  I tried to pretend like it wasn't and did my best to vacuum with it's non-existent suction and then the engine just fried and it won't suck at all now.  Randi and Earl are working on their letters to Santa wishing for a new vacuum, only I'm pretty sure that they're on Santa's bad list.  Or Santa smokes crack cocaine.

When I was in France, the vacuum broke also.  This resulted in quite possibly one of the most interesting days in my French life because I had arranged to borrow Jack's vacuum cleaner.  (Based on the state of Jack's apartment, I was pretty certain he wasn't going to miss it.)  To get Jack's vaccum, I had to take the tram to the city center and then walk about 1/2 mile.  When I got off I saw some mentally retarded people smoking cigarettes in a group outside the movie theatre.  I thought, hmmm, you sure don't see that every day, even in France.  As I was walking down the Grand'Rue towards Jack's apartment there was a lady sitting at the counter in a boutique that was still under construction.  I figured the construction was behind schedule, but she was scheduled to start working the counter so per some crazy French labor law she was required to sit at a counter in a store with no merchandise in an unfinished store.  I thought, you sure don't see that every day.  I did ponder what I was doing in this crazy country with these crazy people.  Then I had to pound on Jack's door and wake his hungover ass up, sludge through the crap he had on his floor of his apartment, gather up the vaccum in the dark (hangover), make sure he didn't have alcohol poisoning (I think I said, you stink, you need anything?) and then walk the vacuum cleaner back down the Grand'Rue past the lady in the boutique and get on the tram next to the  mentally retarded people smoking.  It was then I noticed the stares of the people on the tram who were surely thinking, what the hell is she doing with a vacuum cleaner on the tram?  That day, I fit in perfectly in the patchwork of Strasbourg, France.

Of course, Jack is not around to borrow his vacuum cleaner.  The brilliant part about me borrowing his is I'm pretty sure he never used it.  Unlike my friends now, who use their vacuum cleaner and so now I am left sans vacuum with four dogs and two ducks.  No, I don't vacuum outside and no, the ducks are not allowed inside.  That would be crazy.

Christmas

I purchased two little stockings and hung them from the tree for the ducks, but they blew away in the storm last week.

New Beds

I purchased new two pet beds on Thursday which brings the total number of dedicated pet beds to three.  Earl had taken to laying on Sarah's bed.  (A bed I originally bought for Earl, but Sarah took it over.)  Sarah has not been happy with Earl on her bed, so I decided we needed some more.  Sarah's new bed is small, so that it will hopefully prevent everyone else from poaching.  Now there are two beds in the bedroom and one in the living room in case anyone wants to watch TV with me.

Yesterday morning, Earl went on an adventure down the street.  Somehow the gate got open and when I let him and Clark out, he decided to take a tour.  Luckily, it didn't take me that much time to convince him to come back home because I had a doctor's appointment.  As soon as Earl saw me pull the truck out he ran right toward me, thinking we were going for a walk.

Opposable Thumbs

I'm sick again and in addition to all that goodness I had a cocktail self pity hour.  It's times like today, when I'm tired and sick and feeling awful that I really want for someone.  Like, how great, if I had come home today and instead of jumping, Randi and Earl would have brought in the wood, helped Sarah start the fire (because who would trust those two with matches), then brought in more wood, made dinner, brought it to me and then got up and changed the DVD when I was ready.  That would have been ideal.  That would have been comforting, but in addition to all of the above I had to play musical dog while they figured out who was going to sit most closest to me or on top of me, then throw them off of me when it was time to get more wood or change the DVD, then play musical chairs again.  If only they had opposable thumbs. Or could weed.  This would solve so many problems.

In other news, I thought that Sarah was ready to go on to the big dog park in the sky yesterday.  First, it was freaking cold and crazy windy.  The type of windy where the carts were doing their marching band impression across the WinCo parking lot.  The type of windy where I woke up hoping the pool and the roof were still around.  Also, it snowed a bit- and if it wasn't snowing it was raining.  Cold and miserable.  Enter me, sick, home at 7 pm after 12 hours.  I thought for sure everyone would be dying to get in the house.  Everyone but Sarah that is.  She didn't even come out of the garage.  So I braved the cold, walked out and drug her into the house.  She was having none of it and walked right back out when I opened the door for Randi.  She wouldn't even come in when we went to bed.  I got to thinking that maybe she knew she wanted to move on and didn't want to be in the house, so then I got worried and drug her into the house again about 10PM.  As it turns out,  I think that she was just being Sarah, because today's she's fine and back to snoring on her bed.

Trauma at the Saratoga Animal Shelter

When I got home last night Clark was shaking uncontrollably.  Then he cowered in the corner, shaking uncontrollably.  Then he wouldn't leave my side and shook uncontrollably when he sat on my lap whilst we watched soccer.  I'm thinking something must have gone down yesterday at the Saratoga Animal Shelter between Earl and Clark and Clark was the looser.

Television

I think that if Sarah could talk she would have sound like the two pack a day lady who works in a bowling alley. She would have swear words in each sentence, most of which would start with "This is bullshit." And if you tried to tell her otherwise, she'd bark at you. Sarah is very bitchy. This is mostly because she hates her life. She wants nothing more than to live in a houseful of men, and instead has been with some lesbians, then some other lesbians, then me and then me with Clark and then me with Clark, Randi and Earl. She has not gotten over this. She doesn't really care about me, particularly if there is a man around. Then she turns into a shameless whore strutting her stuff waiting for him to take her home. She's been let down plenty of times. There was the year she spent with creepy Jose in Fresno. (She overlooked his creepiness because he was a boy.) The year she spent with my dad when I was in France. (En plus, my dad fed her tortillas and cheese and hot dogs.) And then the month with Josh cruelly joked he was going to take her with him when he moved out on his own. Thus Sarah always has a lot to say and most of it is "bullshit."

Today was a typical Sunday afternoon. I graded papers while watching Bridezillas. Sarah was in the house with me and at one time she became quite vocal. I looked at her and she looked at me and we decided that if we are going to get married, I am going to have to be more of a bitch and start crying and whining more to get my way.

Sarah's giving me lessons.

Behind my back

Sometimes I see the strangest things when I turn around - like Earl laying completely on top of Randi. This is why I always try to have a camera nearby.

Also

The ducks ran towards me today!

The Legende...

That is Nick Viselli. The secret to wearing out the Pack is Nick Viselli. Actually, the secret to wearing anyone out is Nick Viselli. This guy. He's sneaky. You think you're just going out for a nice little bike ride and the next thing you know you're so tired you can't even breathe. I spent one summer chasing him around Bell Mountain on my mountain bike. He says things like "We don't need to stop. You've got a camelbak." One day I thought I was keeping up pretty good (i.e. I could still see him.) But he stopped and said his back was cramping. He doesn't need to stop because he's a machine. He'll ride his bike 30 miles and then go play rugby. Or do stadium runs. Or climb a mountain or charm a snake. The last time I rode with the guy I was getting over my cold and said I didn't want to go fast or far. He pulled in in front of me and the next thing I knew I was pedaling down Central Road Nick Viselli speed and straight wore out. He supposedly works at school, but no one ever sees him. He'll drive to St. George for dinner. He says things like, I was hiking up half dome and a bobcat came down and looked at me and I looked at him and then I followed him up the trail for about a half a mile. Nick Viselli's not afraid of a heliomonster-the deadliest reptile ever. Nick Viselli picks up snakes for FUN. He has snakes in his classroom. If you want to see a snake just go somewhere with Viselli. Want to find Indian arrows? Go for a hike with Viselli. Want to know where to find the best pie in the Western US? He knows.
He also has students who will come to your house and do yard work for free as part of their 'curriculum.' A couple of weeks ago Viselli came over with his workers to start working in my backyard. I really wasn't worried about the dogs because when Nick came in my backyard he was the freaking dog whisperer and the Pack just sat down and did what he wanted. But since the kids were with him, I did want to make sure the Pack would be friendly. These were my phone messages:

Bethany, I did get bit by a dog, but don't worry, we took a picture so you can submit it to your insurance. I'm sure they can get you touch with a good lawyer.

30 minutes later: Bethany, we've got a dog bite and a duck bite, but we took a picture of it so you can submit it to your insurance.

30 minutes after that: Bethany, I've got a complaint. One of the kids stepped in dog poop, so we took a picture of it so you can submit it to your insurance.

An hour later: Bethany, we've got a problem. I just came back over to the house and these dogs aren't even barking at me any more.

Only, when I got home and let the Pack in they passed out. They slept all through the scheduled evening wrestling match. All through the late evening wrestling match. And even through the pre-bed time wrestling match. I told them, that's what happens when you think you're going to play with Nick Viselli. He'll kick your ass and you won't even know what happened.

Viselli was back out here again today working on the yard with his students. So far Randi and Earl have forsaken the afternoon and evening wrestling matches for naps. They are so tired they don't even want to jump.

I want Nick Viselli at my house every day.

EDub and PDub

Everyone here at the Saratoga Animal Shelter loves animals, as all of them are now sharing their food with the birds. It's not uncommon to look out and see on one side, the dog food filled up with birds (and Randi and Earl laying nearby); then on the other side of the house, the ducks sharing their food with 10 finches. I've still not been successful in catching these guys and clipping their wings. The photo doesn't do justice to PDub's iridescent wings. They are super pretty.

Flying

The ducks have started to fly again. Or EDub (white duck) has started to fly again. Stephen says my ducks are the kind that can fly very good. So yesterday after I noticed that EDub was taking flight I decided I should try to cut his wings again. Easier said that done. I tried just chasing them, but they eluded me. Then I tried cornering them via use of the rake, but they eluded me. After I tried the broom and then throwing the towel on top of them. At each turn I was outsmarted by a duck. So nobody got his/her wing clipped and everyone was tired. Next time I'm at WalMart I'm going to purchase a net. Also PDub has some really pretty white showing up on her? wings. This is when they were easy to catch:

Location, Location, Location

With Earl increasing the frequency of which he forgets he can't get on the bed and the presence of her Highness the Snickerdoodle, the bed real estate market was a bitch last night.

Ouch

Yesterday at the college I wanted to sit down and watch some ducks before my class started. I barely even made a move to sit down and three ducks ran, yes, RAN up to me. My ducks don't run up to me. They run AWAY from me when I walk out to the backyard. I tried to explain to the ducks today how the college ducks ran to me, but they pretty much just ran away from me, again. Maybe one day my ducks will run towards me.

You Make Bathtime Lots of Fun

It's like those fish tank videos.

Boy or Girl?

Reasons why I think that the white duck is a boy:
1. It keeps biting the neck of the black duck.
2. It takes food away from the black duck.
3. Once it bit the neck and then tried to climb on top of the black duck.

When I consulted with the Pack on the names, Randi seemed to be leaning toward yummy, yummy in my tummy and Earl went for finger licking good. Sarah called bullshit with all four legs and Clark still had no idea what I was talking about.

Earl the Dietician

So today Earl decided to help me with my diet by eating the rest of Pete's birthday cake. One half of a cake, iced and sitting on the counter. It was just calling to Earl. I knew it was too quiet. I walked out in the kitchen and discovered that oui, indeed, Earl had scarfed the whole half a chocolate cake. As my mom is often saying, chocolate is poisonous for dogs. I imagined coming home and finding Earl comatose in the backyard, lethargic and having to take him to Vet ER for two trillion dollars. No, Earl has suffered no adverse effects from his binge eating.

These Guys Need Names

Happy Birthday

Evidence of Earl's early evening munchies attack.

Today

Today I got home the puppies had chewed up a bike tube as well as my pack of pencils. They didn't actually eat the pencils (obvious weary of led poisoning.) Earl also ate 1/3 of Pete's birthday cake as it was cooling on the counter. In addition their friend the little puppy is knocked up. Immediately I looked at Earl, but he's fixed, plus there's no way he could have figured out how to scale the fence. I guess we'll know for sure if the puppies come out holding bongs or other pot paraphernalia.

Randi v. Toy

I have an old old old wind up dog toy that used to bark and jump. It doesn't anymore because it's so old. It's ear is ripped open, and it's pretty darn scraggly, but I've kept it because it was one of my favorite toys. Randi saw it this evening, poised next to the overlock machine and she hasn't left the sewing room yet.




Eventually I had to move the toy up because I was afraid Randi might try to attack it. I think it's ear was ripped by a dog at a Brownie sleep over when I was like 9. I'm sure the toy is still traumatized.


Once Randi discovered the toy and its awesomeness, then Earl of course had to investigate also. Then he took it down and brought it to me.

Duckicide

I dreamed last night that I boiled the ducks. For some reason I had put them in a pot with water without realizing that this would kill them. I walked back into the kitchen and they were making pathetic little chirping noises and I grabbed the tongs and tried to get them out, but as they seemed mostly lethargic and dying I didn't know what to do- so of course I did nothing and let my ducks boil to death. Then I walked into my bedroom and asked myself how I was going to get their fur off of them to eat them. What a dream. Important to note: the ducks were very small and still fuzzy and there were three of them and not two.

Twins

The photo doesn't show how they're breathing in unison.

Bones

Sometimes in the evening I give the dogs bones so that they calm down so that I can watch TV peacefully; or in tonight's case cry for two hours watching Grey's Anatomy. Sometimes it's not so peaceful because Earl likes to try to "collect" all of the bones, via intimidation tactics and so I spend a lot of time monitoring Earl's behavior to make sure he is not bullying everyone else into giving him their bones. He doesn't even chew on the bones. Below is the video of Earl "chewing" on a bone. I don't mind this so much because it makes the bones last longer. They're expensive.

Today we also cleaned out all of the dresser drawers, the closet in anticipation of a possible wardrobe purchase and made a purse. Earl's my go to guy for cleaning and finding stuff. Mostly because he always follows me from room to room so I figure he has to know where I've left stuff. He's not so good at sewing purses. Mostly because he just gets thread all over him.

Randi actually chews on a bone:

Earl shows off his prize of a bone:

Randi and Clark forget that there is no getting it on in my bed unless I'm involved. (Not with them obviously, that's gross.):

The Still as Yet Unnamed Get a Wing Clip

Big day at the Saratoga Animal Shelter. The Still as Yet Unnamed got their wings clipped. Peggy and Evan came over and helped me. First we had free Chipotle dinner. Then we cornered the ducks and we clipped their wings. They are remarkably beautiful and soft. An now they won't be able to fly away. Even better.

Ma famille à moi

No, Earl is not recovering from his latest smokeout; he's just thirsty. At first I felt like I should not allow Earl to drink from the toilet, but I've changed my attitude about it. Nobody ever uses this bathroom and it's a clean source of water that fills itself back up which means less work for me. I need to figure out how to get one outside.

The Entire Pack
aka the family portrait

A study in tails:

The Still as Yet Unnamed

I took a lot of photos of the ducks today because since they aren't yet talking, Stephen says that he can maybe see by looking at them what they are. I keep asking, but they aren't giving me any cues. They are spending a lot of time outside of their pen though. And maybe one day we'll be friends. We might be getting close to names.

Mystère

The swamp cooler has stopped working. I can think of only two logical reason for this:
1. Randi
2. Earl
The only question is what kind of wrestling match landed them on the roof.

Reactions

I put the new quilt on the bed today. These were the reactions:

The ducks don't care and continue to swim.

Randi takes a moment to sleep on Sarah's bed.

Clark loves the new quilt. He struck up his rico suave pose for this picture.

Encore a Slumber Party

The only time Emmah Snickerdoodle is relaxed during her time at the Saratoga Animal Shelter is when I'm sewing. It's probably the only activity she knows. Last night she tried to get on the bed via the side where Sarah sleeps on the floor. Sarah snapped at her. Then Emmah came around to the other side and tried to jump up. This caused the bed to shake and affected Randi's precarious perch, making her fall off the bed on top of Sarah. No wonder Sarah's always bitchy.

The Still as Yet Unnamed are let out of the pen

Today I re-hotwired the fence (and shocked myself pretty good when I touched the wire thinking I had already unplugged it.) So now the ducks can wander out of their pen. They were pretty cautious and have not explored the yard very much. In fact, they spent a large amount of time just trying to get back in the pen. (I didn't take it completely down because I thought that they might like the security of the chicken wire.)

Cautious first steps.

Earl-doing more yoga or just being stoned. You never really know.

This week at the Saratoga Animal Shelter

• My sister suggests DNA testing to find out what Randi and Earl are.
• Randi and Earl eat the Parmesan cheese can. The can. Apparently they wanted Italian spiced dog food.
• A coyote comes down the access road. Also, I think there might have been a road runner in the back yard.
  
• Randi falls off the bed in the middle of the night on top of Sarah. Sarah, understandably, was not happy.
• Randi takes to drinking out of the toilet.
• I close the toilet lid.
• Randi and Earl learn how to lift the toilet lid up, take a drink and put it back down.
  
• At least they put it back down.
  

Good Dogs

I take back everything I ever said about the pack being noisy or bad. At 4:49 am this morning they barked ferociously and when I let them out they scared away someone in my yard. Good, Good Pack of Dogs.

Big Ducks Little Pond

Earl hangs his head over the bed in what can be described only as an effort to make the blood rush to his head in an effort to get a high so he is not completely dependent on pot.



The Still As Yet UnOfficially Unnamed have grown three thousand millimeters since yesterday and are getting their big duck feathers. I already cleaned out their water.

Walt and Daphne

Sarah refuses to look at me so I can take her picture.

Photorama

The Still as Yet Unnamed Get a New Home

I'm thinking about calling the ducks Walt and Jason. I understand this will be a problem if next year I start getting duck eggs, but I like the names. In any case, it was becoming increasingly clear that the Unnamed were going to need to be moved outside, due to their stinkiness in the sewing room. Today I built them a delightful 7X7 ft pen in the backyard. They have a pond that I dug intentionally deep enough so that they could paddle around. They have grass and logs and cement and food and water and a basil plant in case they want to make pesto. They however have spent most of the day trying to figure out how to get out. They did get out once, but I quickly sized up the potential for escape and fortified the pen. They seem to be fond of hoping over one of the cement blocks and climbing on the logs. They also spent a good amount of time in the water-bathing and swimming. Once they get big enough I'll let them out of the pen, but since they escaped last week by wiggling through the chain link they have to be restrained.

Randi and Earl slept in the house the entire time.

The Unnamed Take the First Steps Outside

No one was hurt and they enjoyed exploring the back yard. They walked around, nibbled on the grass, sat, swam, snuggled into the dirt while I started digging part of their "pool."

The Saratoga Animal Shelter Welcomes Its Latest Arrivals

Because Evan and Peggy didn't talk me out of it.

Emmah Snickerdoodle

The Snickerdoodle is "enjoying" her two night stay at the Saratoga Animal Shelter. I have discovered these things about Emmah Snickerdoodle:

1) She does not like loud music to be played in the truck and it causes her to shake.
2) She doesn't like air conditioning to be too high or it causes her to shake.
3) If she shakes enough she will start to drool a puddle.
4) Emmah also does not enjoy the drive-thru at KFC; it too causes the shakes.
5) She does not know or refuses to say where my dad hides his quarters.
6) My mom boobey-trapped her food to see if I was feeding her as per her instructions.

Tomorrow the Snickerdoodle will be returning to her house and this edition of Snickerdoodle Slumber Party will be over.

Caught On Film

My sleek photographic skills allowed me to capture the moment when I tell someone I have four dogs. Pretty much everyone has this same look.