Thursday, December 11, 2008
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
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.
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.
Saturday, December 6, 2008
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.
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.
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.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
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.
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.
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
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.
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.
Monday, June 2, 2008
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.
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.
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